Scotch, Gin, and the New Girl
by wtvoc
Summary: Les Liaisons Dangereuses, je croix. We were Cruel Intentions. We are Gossip Girls. We do not care. At all." all-human.
1. Chapter 1

**A new endeavor. Being written by jandco and withthevampsofcourse. **

**This is dedicated to smellyia, giveusakiss413, and gallantcorkscrews.**

**We discovered that we're all facking brilliant.**

**And please... be warned. This is not SM's twilight. **

**It's a bit darker, grittier. Hornier. **

**Enjoy.**

_twilight is not ours. _

**Edward**

"Oh, hello, Edward!"

"Hello, Mrs. Hale," I murmured. She eyed me appreciatively. Rosalie's Mom was the hottest MILF in town. We'd all taken a peek at her in that big front window of the pilates studio, stretching out her tanned limbs. There was no doubt as to where her daughter's genetics came from.

"Rosalie and Alice are upstairs. You know the way, I'm sure." I could feel her eyes follow me as I trailed my lithe fingers up the smooth, polished banister. _One of these days, Mrs. Hale. I'll add you to my list. First, your daughter_.

I pushed the door open without knocking. Rose was sitting on the floor next to the foot of her large, canopied bed, her long legs- a legacy from her mother- crossed neatly. She was leaning back into Alice's touch- getting her long, blonde locks finger-combed as Alice bent down, whispering to her conspiratorially. The two looked up simultaneously as I silently shut the door behind me.

"Edward," they purred in unison, a sultry inflection in their voices, letting me know something was up.

"Ladies," I replied, crossing my arms and leaning back on the door. No way after all of these years they'd give in. I had been trying for the last year or so to get them to double team me. No such luck. Even getting them plowed with liquor at one of Emmett's infamous debaucheries couldn't get me into that elite club. These two were the best pieces of ass at Forks High; or so I assumed. They never let me in, not once. Aside from silly, drunken fumblings in closets during parties spread out since junior high, I had never gotten so much as a finger inside either of the two.

But this is my year. School started tomorrow, and I had plans, dammit. I will _not_ be denied. I can have any girl at that school; I want one or both of these two.

"So, have you seen the new girl yet?" Rose asked, laying her head in Alice's lap. Alice continued playing with the ends of Rosalie's hair, a wry grin lighting up her face. Alice was the cuter of the two; Rosalie was the one exuding sex out of every pore. Two opposite ends of the girl spectrum; it was a wonder that they had been best friends since the sixth grade.

"The Swan Progeny? Nope. If she looks anything like her father, I feel sorry for her," I scoffed, walking over to the desk where Rose's expensive and unused computer sat. I straddled the chair backwards, leaning forward so that my long legs could get comfortable. Rosalie sighed; I know it was little things like this that really got her. She couldn't resist me; I had seen her shoot me looks of lust for the last eight years of our being friends; I still couldn't figure out why she was fucking holding out. Just give the pussy up and let me move on, shit.

Alice giggled. "I met her. She's wholesome."

"Yeah. She'll fit right in with us," Rose snickered. Such a bitch. So _hot_.

"Come on, Rose. We're going to be friends with her, riiiight?" Alice giggled. I loved how girly she was. So full of life. I bet she was a tiger in the sack. An exuberant fuck.

"So, Forks Fuck Bunnies. To what do I owe this meeting?" I asked, affecting a bored tone. They had mysteriously texted me this morning with the vague _We need to talk_ lighting up my dark room. My curiosity was certainly piqued. "I have practice in an hour; let's make it good."

"We have a proposition for you-" Alice started.

"-a bet-" continued Rose.

"-that we think you'd really enjoy." Alice was practically bouncing; I watched the tremor pass through her body, thoroughly enjoying the perky nipples she had on display. Fuck, what were they planning? They were both practically jumping out of their skins.

"Hmm," I said, trying to sound bored. In reality, I felt a buzz go through my body. These two were never up to any good. If the adults of our high school knew just how many pranks and situations these two were the cause of throughout the years, they'd collectively shit. But no; not Alice Brandon, Volunteer Coordinator and Straight A Hale. With Alice's sweet temperament and Rosalie's intimidating stature, the two ruled that high school. No student dared defy them, and no adult could say No.

Neither could the boys.

I was still waiting for my turn.

"Well?" demanded Rose. Not the most patient of people, I knew that if I simply sat here and looked like I was already over it that she'd just fucking talk. I can be patient. I drummed my fingers absently on her desk, my chin resting in my other palm. Man, did that piss her off.

"Do you want to know about our cryptic text or not?" she continued. She was sitting up now, her back erect and breasts jutting out. Mm. Just where I wanted her. They can play all the games they want as long as I get something out of it. A nice view of her tits in a white top? Fuckin'-A. I'll take it.

Alice ran her fingers through Rose's hair again, instantly calming her down. I watched with hooded eyes as Rose lowered her lids, subconsciously leaning in to Alice's touch. Fuck me. How can something so simple be so fucking erotic? Their years of knowing each other- knowing what calmed the other down- was _hot_.

"Okay. Sure. What's up?" I said, throwing them a bone. I'd like to throw them both a bone. Simultaneously.

"Like we said, we have a proposition for you," Alice said, looking down at Rose for permission to continue. Rosalie nodded, and Alice continued.

"It's about the Swan chit," she said. She got up on her knees and crawled backwards a bit until she was laying down, resting her chin on Rose's shoulder. The two turned into each other's faces and grinned before turning back to look into my eyes. Their proximity was making my breathing pick up. Fuck. They had the same porcelain complexion, one with dark, almost black hair touching the honey blonde of the other. Alice wrapped her arms around Rosalie before continuing.

"The daughter of the chief of police cannot be infiltrated," Alice said, her proclamation punctuated with a nod of her head. Rose gave a sneaky smile; I already knew where this was going.

"I have no wish to do the new girl," I said, a bored tone entering my voice. Shit, ladies. Give me a challenge of some sort. That Lauren chick had bugged me for like, two weeks afterward. I am not interested in inducting another member into the "Do Me Again, Edward" Fan Club.

"Edward. Like we'd be so boring," Rosalie said, her condescending tone making my skin tingle. God, she's such a cunt. I love it.

"What's in it for me?" I asked, desperate to sound unaffected. Please, please. Let this be what I hope it is.

"Well. What if we made your fondest wish come true?" Alice was stroking Rosalie's shoulders, and she leaned down, whispering into Rose's ear. Her arms encircled around, and I couldn't help it. My eyes widened slightly as I saw Alice palm Rosalie's breast before ending in a hug. The two turned as one toward me, both grinning. They had me, and they knew it.

"Okay, Cullen. Let's talk turkey, because I'm already bored. You nail the Swan girl, and you get to fuck us. Both. Same. Time. Interested?" Rosalie Hale always did have a way with words. She was, after all, the reigning champion of Washington State's Extemporaneous Speaking Contest.

I cleared my throat. "How can I be sure you two will…. Seal the deal? I don't want to put my dick somewhere I have no wish of going near if I don't get what I want out of it," I said, standing up, pretending to get ready to go. In reality, I desperately needed to rub one out. Shit. Just the thought of the two of those pieces of ass naked and writhing was giving me a mean hard-on. And they knew it. Damn.

"Edward, please. I am a woman of my word. As is Alice. Do you really doubt that we want to, anyway?" said Rose, getting up and crawling next to Alice on the bed. Shit. She leaned down, whispering into Alice's ear. Alice kept eye contact, biting her lip and leaning to the side to allow Rose better access. Fuck. I need to go.

"Yeah, whatever. It'll be a challenge. From what I hear, Newton tried to get on that shit and the Chief caught him making a move and kicked his ass off his porch. This'll remind me of that time I tried to sneak that Special K from the hospital under Carlisle's nose. This time I'll get to hit that shit, though," I said, trying to subtly adjust myself as I made my way to the door.

"Ladies. I really must be going. Usual time and place?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant. We always met up with Emmett and Jasper for post-practice drinking/smoking/fucking/whatever. Tomorrow being the first day of school, I knew we'd all need the release. Especially me. Hopefully someone would be there to help me relieve this unbearable tension.

"Bye, Edward," they sang, their voices trilling in unison. _Yes_. I cannot _wait_ to make them sing in tandem again.

This Swan broad had better not be too fucking uptight. I gave it two, three weeks tops.

Totally worth it.

Rosalie Hale and Alice Brandon. I would be branded a fucking legend. And a Fucking Legend.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Dude. What is with you today?" Jasper was nudging me with his elbow. As Captain of the Soccer Team, he always felt like it was his fucking business to ask me shit like that.

"Prick. They don't call me the Star Forward for nothing. I'll have a shit day if I wanna have a shit day."

"Fine, dickweed. Do not have a shit day on game day is all I'm asking. Do you need to get laid? It's been what, three days? Call that Lauren broad," he said, grinning like a bastard. We'd all hit that shit. I just got there first.

"Jasper. You know my philosophy. I don't stick it the same place twice. Simple, but true," I said, grinning. I sound like a dick.

I am a dick. Ain't life grand?

"Hey, fuckers. Thanks for waiting for me," a sweaty Emmett wheezed. He put his sticky arms around us and we trudged off to the locker rooms to shower.

"No prob. You know, you'd breathe easier if you'd quit smoking," I reminded him.

"Like you're one to talk, two packs a day," he returned, putting me in a headlock. Ugh. Sweat.

"Emmett, you disgusting fuck. And I told you; I'm down to one pack," I smirked, easily removing myself from his arm. We walked on, each of us waving at the line of girls that were gathered at the fence, watching our practice. Most of them would end up at the post-practice party that would happen at Emmett's place; his mom was always at some committee meeting or another; perhaps the PTSA meeting she presided over, or one of the volunteer charities she and Alice were always at. Emmett and Alice were cousins, and she had been living at his house for years. Her mother was a free spirit, off doing God knows who in Europe somewhere. She got the occasional postcard.

None of us had much in the way of parental supervision. Except Rosalie, but her mother was terrified of her. And what do you get with rich teenagers in a small town with nothing better to do?

Les Liaisons Dangereuses, je croix. We _were_ Cruel Intentions. We _are_ Gossip Girls. We do _not_ give a shit. At all.

This being the first practice that occurred before school started, it was also the unofficial start of the party season for Forks teenagers. Emmett had the best house for gatherings, so we met there. I didn't always hook up at these parties, but it was a good way to unwind. I'd like to say that we had drunken orgies every time, but sometimes it was just a few of us hanging out.

Not today.

The rich and beautiful parents of the rich and beautiful bitchy teenagers knew better than to try to get us to be home before the first day of school. Anyone who was "in" knew to be at Emmett's today. One of those unspoken fucking rules of the hierarchy of high school. If you weren't there today… you might as well stab yourself in the crotch as far as your high school sex life went.

I was also hoping to scope the new meat. There were always transfer girls coming and going at our school; the academic excellence of Forks was renowned; probably because we were all spoiled with private tutors from an early age. People who wanted their kids to get into good colleges were constantly moving here.

Too bad the social structure didn't allow for interlopers. And none of us made it any easier. More than one new girl had found herself with a broken heart, a C average, and a possible case of VD.

I'm clean as a whistle, but who can say the same for any of the other whores out here? I'm responsible enough to get myself tested, fuck.

So I was sitting there, nursing my damned bottle of scotch. Honestly. Emmett knows I need my Glenlivet; I don't know what this shit was pretending to be. Emmett thought belonging to a "Scotch of the Month Club" was funny, I guess.

"See anything you like yet?" I heard Rosalie whisper into my ear. I smirked; she was always taunting me and my inability to get into her pants.

"I'm bored," I huffed, downing the scotch in one gulp and pouring a few more fingerbreadths into my glass. Bored, bored, bored. Scotch, scotch, scotch.

Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

Who the fuck is _that_?

_I love new meat._

She breezed in on the arm of that fag Newton. My type, too- beautiful. Sexy. DSLs. Legs for days. The usual. But she had this knowing smile, too. That killed me. Intelligence gets me every time. Too bad there's not a lot of that running around here. Except for Rosalie and Alice, there weren't that many girls around here that could hold a conversation. I was used to the vapid observations of everyteen that graced the covers of Cosmogirl or whateverthefuck it was these chicks were reading during Trig. Emmett swears by Us Weekly; he had a damned subscription.

"And the challenge strolls on in. I didn't think she had it in her," Rosalie mused, hopping over the sofa and snuggling up to me on the couch. Fucking tease. She leaned in, running her fingers through my hair; she met Bella's arched eyebrow and some sort of exchange passed between them. Great. Rose is going to make this hard for me.

She always does.

"Oh Isabella," she called out. New Hottie came over, arms linked with the Fag.

"Cullen."

"Newton."

"And I'm Hale. Let's cut the surname shit, then, shall we?" Rose said, boredom dripping off her glossy lips. She was eyeing the two like a cat eyes a bowl of cream. What the hell? She really did get off on making other people's lives difficult. I decided to drink some more. Fuck it. Project: the Police Chief's Daughter would start tomorrow. Tonight, I needed to relax. For tomorrow we were seniors. Hoo-fucking-ray.

"Oh, goodness. Where are my manners? Edward Cullen, this is Isabella Swan, Police Chief Swan's daughter. Newly transported to Forks," Rose said, a devilishly playful gleam in her eye. What's your game now, Rosalie Hale?

Isabella Swan shot Rose a withering look before placing her hand in front of me. "Nice to meet you, Edward Cullen. I've heard… things about you," she said, arching her brow at me. She glanced at Newton out of the side of her eyes before returning my gaze. Wow. Depth. This girl looked like she'd seen things I could only dream of. I couldn't wait to fuck those secrets right out of her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**stand by for the bella chapter, written by jandco. we're takin' turns.**

**so... **


	2. Chapter 2

**hey guys**

**enjoy... many of you feel sorry for poor, innocent bella.**

**heh.**

**we dedicate this to you. you know who you are. yes, you.**

**oh, and in case you can't tell... jandco writes bella. wtvoc writes edward. **

_disclaimer: twilight no es mio._

**Bella**

Mike yanked on my hand and steered me away.

We'd have to have a discussion about ownership.

Sheesh. You spend the better part of August letting a good-looking, old money, attention-seeker awkwardly explore your pants and suddenly you're spoken for?

I think not, Michael Newton the Third.

Boredom always gets me in to trouble.

I knew no one in Forks except for Rosalie Hale, so when I met Mike at Forks Academy registration and he offered to show me around, I took him up on it.

I should've known better.

He showed me nothing but the backseat of the Mercedes his daddy bought him and the damp floor of his pool house.

Again, I was bored…and hoping he had some kind of social life outside of tennis lessons and the Young Republicans of America Club; if he did, he sure kept it hidden from me, until now.

For the time being I let him lead me away so as I could assess the situation.

Because…I'd need a strategy.

A good one.

Edward was very gorgeous, in a very bad way. He was the type I was never really good at resisting. Okay, he was the type I never even _tried_ resisting…the scary part was…he was probably the prettiest thing I'd ever seen.

And I had a feeling most people felt the same way about him…when Mike wasn't clumsily rubbing my labia raw this summer, he was telling me reprehensible stories about this Cullen kid. At the time, it didn't make much sense that he would be filling me with obscene tales of the school gigolo, but now it makes perfect sense.

Michael Newton the Third did not want to lose pussy to Edward Cullen. He was simply securing his place. Unfortunately for Mike, he never had a place.

Poor kid.

"Where's the bathroom?" I asked Mike, yanking my hand from his.

"Uh, upstairs, to the on the left, three doors down. I'll take you," Mike said, reaching for my hand again.

He should change his name to Elmer's.

"I think I'll manage," I said without making eye contact.

I made it to the bathroom and barged in on one guy and two girls counting out pills on the marble counter.

I tried not to roll my eyes.

The thing about rich kids is this: if it comes in pill or powder form, they consider it sophisticated…probably because they acquired it from their sophisticated mommy and daddy's stash.

"Can we help you?" a frizzy-haired girl asked, with a polite, tight smile.

"Nope."

"Well, then can you get the hell out?" she asked, with a light breezy tone and the plastic smile still in place.

"Yep."

"Wait…aren't you new? Aren't you the police chief's daughter?" a big, good-looking guy asked.

His dimples almost disguised his blatant steroid abuse.

Almost.

Which was really too bad, because I wouldn't kick this guy out of bed…but there was no way I was dealing with limp dick and shrunken balls.

"I am. Bella Swan," I said, holding my chin high.

I wasn't stupid enough to believe I would actually be accepted here.

These kids were old money.

Elite.

Hand-me-down generational populars.

They fit together because their parents fit together, who fit together because their grandparents fit together and so on.

Forks Academy was exclusive. They only took kindly to their own kind…and the name Swan meant nothing here, aside from blue collar cop…my father.

My father…who was constantly foiled by these kids.

He'd give his left nut to actually bust them on their illicit activities…but it would never happen. Their parents owned Forks. Hell, their parents owned him…and everyone knew it.

"Emmett McCarty. Welcome to my house," he grinned.

I liked him…despite the fact that he was destined for an Ivy League rowing team and a life of one wife, several girlfriends, ski trips in Aspen and a five hundred dollar a day coke habit. He seemed like a good, non-pretentious time for right now.

"This is Lauren and Jessica," Emmett went on.

The girls didn't look up again.

Emmett shrugged and went back to pill counting.

"Later," I said, and started backing up.

"Wait, princess. Tell me about yourself," Emmett said, not looking up again.

Lauren shot him a disgusted look of disbelief.

"Can you imagine the shit this girl could get her hands on?" Emmett said to Lauren. "Her dad probably confiscates all kinds of good shit."

He quickly winked at me and gave a short shake of his head.

I couldn't tell who he was trying to appease, but I was fairly certain it wasn't me.

Didn't matter.

I was sick of Newton, and Emmett could most definitely show me a good time, no matter what his motives were.

"What do you want to know?" I said, leaning against the counter and arching an eyebrow.

I'd play the game.

I was bored.

"Well, let's cut the bullshit. We all know you're no Paris Hilton. How the hell did you manage an in?"

"My grandmother died. My mother was a Hotchkiss. I thought everyone knew that—"

"Ahh, the Legend of Renee Hotchkiss. Let's see if I get this right. Rebellious Renee attended Forks Academy, just like any good socialite in Washington should, and got knocked up by, ah I see. Wrong side of the tracks Charles Swan. I assume you are the infamous mistake?"

"I am."

"Interesting. So, anyway…Renee decides to be even more rebellious and not abort the half blueblood child, and Mother and Father Hotchkiss do the unthinkable….they cut. Her. Off. Am I right so far?"

"Indeed. Continue."

"Renee and said child disappear and live a stereotypical single mother, bastard child existence in…oh, I don't know, No Where'sville, USA…"

"Pretty much."

"Then, after years of no communication, feelings of regret, shame and guilt, the passing of Grandfather Hotchkiss and eventually the passing of Grandmother Hotchkiss…there is word for Renee from the family attorney."

"Yep."

"Hotchkiss has granted you a full scholarship to Forks and the University of your choosing…and left you her bank."

"Yep…you're pretty good at this."

"Well, your mother is a legend. My mother went to school with her and talks shit about her every chance she gets. The Ladies Who Lunch are ominous and all-knowing."

"I see."

"You're ballsy coming here. "

"I know."

"Well, you've shared so much. It's only fair I get to talk about myself now."

"Please do," I smirked.

He glanced at himself in the mirror.

This guy really liked himself and I couldn't blame him.

"Let's see…I hail from excellent breeding, but that's obvious."

"It is," I said flatly, but he missed my sarcasm and continued.

"I'm probably going to go in to sports med, despite the fact that I have the best college teams hanging from my jock, offering floss and blow jobs left and right…but fuck it, I already have all that shit, so why should I sweat and bust my ass?" he asked, jiggling a few pills in his hand.

"Touche."

"What else…oh, despite my crème de la crème education, I found at a very early age that most of life's lessons can't be learned at Academy de Forks. The only professor that knows shit about shit is the doctor himself…"

Jessica and Lauren simultaneously groaned.

"Shut up or find your own fix," Emmett said, then looked back at me.

"Dr. Dre. That man knows real life. He's got wisdom. He's a poet. He's-"

"Nineties rap," I said.

"Say what you will. He speaks to my soul. As does Tupac, God rest his soul, but, if we're being honest- and we should be Bella, if we're going to be friends- Tupac was a whiner. The bitch to Dre's pimp—"

"Don't you mean _Snoop_ was the bitch to Dre's pimp?"

There was a collective gasp and Emmett snapped his head in my direction, and his face donned a truly frightening expression.

"I sincerely hope that was a tasteless joke," he said, his voice low.

"Well, I-"

"Let's get a few things straight, Bella. Because I like you, I won't have you thrown off of my property immediately. You're luckier than most in that respect. I get that you're new, but disrespect like that won't be tolerated again. Number one: Snoop is not a bitch, has never been a bitch and will never be a bitch. Fuck. Number two: never make that mistake again."

"Got it," I said, highly entertained. "If I may risk one more, though?"

Emmett sighed exasperatedly and gave a slight nod.

"But only because you clearly need to be educated," he warned.

"Right. Okay…how on earth can a rich white boy from Forks relate to anything related to nineties rap?"

"I won't yell. I won't yell. I won't yell," he repeated under his breath. His fists were tight and I saw veins bulging in his forearms; ahhh… keeping the Roid Rage at bay.

He took a deep breath.

"Bling, cheddah, bitches, hoes, double-crossing motherfuckers, blunts. That shit is my life. And congratulations, new girl. It's yours now, too. Welcome to tha Dogg Pound."

I blinked.

It made sense, shockingly enough…this guy was on to something.

"You know, Emmett, you just might have a point."

"Of course I do…and Bella, you should know one more thing."

"What's that?" I asked, actually anticipating the next gem this kid was gonna come up with.

"Despite what Cullen or Whitlock tell you, I'm the best lay in Forks. File that one away for a rainy day."

"Will do," I said, not opposed to the idea at all.

"Well, make yourself at home, Swan. Don't let 'em eat you alive…or do."

"Right…and that blue one," I said, pointing to a pill on the counter, "you'll want to crush and inhale. Don't waste your time downing it with Grey Goose."

A look of appreciation crossed Emmett's face and he nodded.

I walked out.

I was kind of relieved.

Between the pill poppers in the bathroom and Rosalie Hale…everyone would know my story by tomorrow morning. I wouldn't have to explain a damn thing to anyone.

In the hall I ran straight in to Rosalie.

I turned.

I hadn't had a full exchange with Rosalie since July, when we were stuck at the same summer polishing camp. Apparently, it was a summer program for all budding debutantes, And Renee insisted I go, in preparation for Forks Academy.

It was certainly an eye-opener- and that's all I can really say about it.

"Not so fast, poor little rich girl," she said.

I stopped and turned.

"Isn't there a dick you need to suck or some money that needs counting?" I asked.

"Always…but this takes priority."

"What do you want?"

"Well, first of all, I sincerely hope that you weren't just in there tainting any cock that I have yet to get to."

"Still bitter about Counselor Ryan at rich kid camp, I see," I retorted.

She hated that I got to him first.

"Hardly. I'm just seeing to it that you don't muddy up the selection…but what I'm really interested in is making sure you remember our little…challenge."

"I have no long-term memory issues. I got it," I said.

And even if I had forgotten, it all came back to me as soon as I actually saw the infamous Edward Cullen.

Hands down the prettiest, best smelling son of a bitch that ever existed.

Hale knew what she was doing. He'd be next to impossible to resist. I had a thing for unbelievably gorgeous pricks…but who doesn't?

"Well, I'm curious. Now that you've met him, do you care to forfeit? I'd understand if you did. He's unbearably sexy…and we all know you've put out for much less."

"I think I can handle it," I sneered, but I honestly wasn't sure.

I'd have to depend on my hate for Rosalie to overpower my lust for Edward.

"We'll see. You dropped those panties awful quick for Ryan. And Colin. And Grant. And—"

"I assure you, Rosalie. I can resist this Edward Cullen. It'll be a piece of cake."

Why did I let myself get sucked in to this ridiculous thing with her?

Ah, that's right…I was bored.

After Ryan, Rosalie said I was a naïve sucker for a pretty face and a good line…which wasn't true. There was just nothing better to do…

At any rate, once she found out I'd be attending Forks, she told me to prove it.

Resist the irresistible.

And because I was bored, had a strong dislike for Rosalie Hale and a pathetic need to prove myself to these superior people…I accepted the challenge.

I had to prove Rosalie wrong…but I wasn't sure what her motivation was.

Clearly, she thought this kid was some kind of wonderful, too. I couldn't tell if she was going for the reverse psychology angle, egging me on to bed him…or if she wanted me to stay away from him.

She definitely had an angle; I just had to figure out what it was. But in the mean time, I'd make her sweat…by making Edward sweat.

He was hot, I was bored, and it could be fun to play with him, bring him to the brink and then…

Besides, the challenge was to resist intercourse…surely, I could find other, more creative ways to play with Edward Cullen and still beat Rosalie's game.

I sauntered back downstairs, got myself a cocktail, dodged Newton for a bit, and made a few harsh, obtuse assumptions about people I don't know and don't want to know.

I downed my third drink and handed the glass to some ass hat with glazed eyes who actually took the empty glass.

Then I saw him pointing at me.

Gorgeous, bored, beautiful, arrogant Edward Cullen was pointing at me.

I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder.

His eyes burned in to me, but his bored expression never changed and his finger kept pointing directly at me.

Rosalie had found a spot next to him and her hand snaked around his chest; still his finger stayed pointed like a gun at me.

Did he want me to go over there?

I did.

His eyes stayed on me the entire time I walked over there.

"What?" I asked.

"You look like fun."

"I am."

"Why don't you sit with me?"

He was sandwiched between Rosalie and an intriguing kid who had a dangerous grin and shaggy I-don't-give-a-fuck hair.

"Nowhere to sit," I shrugged so coolly, even _I_ was impressed.

Edward glanced down at his lap and then back up at me.

What's a girl to do?

I couldn't fuck him, but I could sure as hell get a feel for what I was missing.

I perched myself on his lap and took the glass of scotch from his hand, then took a sip.

"Thanks," I said, standing up. "I needed a stiff one."

"Anytime, sweetheart," he smirked up at me and Rosalie's lips went to his neck, but her eyes were on me.

What the hell was she up to?

I forced myself to walk away and disappear into the crowd, despite the fact that I all I really wanted to do was straddle him while we sipped scotch.

Damn you for being so easy to hate, Rosalie Hale.

xxxxx

**OH SNAP**

**WELCOME TO THA DOGG POUND, LADIES**


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up groggy. Perhaps it will be a new year. New Edward.

Yeah. Right.

Glancing at my clock, I groaned. Too early. I need to stop consuming entire bottles of scotch on school nights. Not that it ever affected my academic performance, but fuck. Edward Cullen needs his beauty sleep, too.

Donning the dark grey slacks and blue-button down was always a chore; I tired of this boring uniform. I tightened my black tie and shrugged into my blazer; another school year begins. The last before college.

Taking the steps two at a time, I descended the stairs, wondering who was going to cook the morning breakfast that my "parents" insisted on; the good doctor was probably at some boring meeting for the board of directors at the hospital; my money was on New Mommy.

Indeed.

"Good morning, handsome," she said, giving me that sex smile that had snagged her a sugar daddy. She was wearing the fucking fiftieth permutation of a see-thru housecoat; it was edged with that froofy feathery shit that you only see on women in Frederick's catalogs and movies with gangsters and their bimbo girlfriends. Only this one probably cost hundreds of dollars.

"Mommy," I nodded, accepting her chaste kiss and plate of pancakes with a smirk. I didn't have time for her meaningful looks, so I shoveled the decent carbs down my throat before grabbing my messenger bag complete with brand new MacBook Pro and dashed out the door, slightly eager to drive my new Baby.

New school year, new car. The Cullen Way. Maybe I could christen the back seat with a nice, leisurely fuck before the day ended. Rosalie had texted to me that I was to stay dry for the duration of the bet. I would have to see if she was serious about that shit.

Or maybe I _should_ save it for the Swan.

Without remembering the details, I knew I had dreamt of her last night. I could practically taste her in my mouth.

This was going to be a good day.

I pulled into the parking lot, glad to see that no one had taken my spot. It was always a pain in the ass to explain to new students that they couldn't park there. The five front spots had been "reserved" for me and my friends for years. You just don't fuck with the school royalty's parking.

I saw the shiny red convertible and Hulking Range Rover; Rose and Emmett were here already. No doubt adorning the halls with banners welcoming all students. Right. As if the new people were welcome. We'd let them in easily. Right.

Jasper's vintage GTO rumbled in next to me. I had to admit, that bastard had style. He was the only person in years to successfully step out of the uppity mold our parents and grandparents had created, and everyone admired him for it. Hell, I admired him for it. I wished I had the balls to be different sometimes.

"The fuck are you wearing on your head, you douche?" I growled. He had some sort of fedora on. It looked like something my grandfather would have worn.

"Fuck you, Cullen. This is going to get me into the heart and pants of some unsuspecting chick today," he answered, smugly adjusting the brim with a lick of his thumb. I hated that he was probably right.

As long as it wasn't Isabella Swan. That shit was mine.

Too bad I couldn't warn him. I knew Rosalie would cut me off if I mentioned the bet to anyone, and we couldn't have that, could we? I had an impending threesome that needed attending to.

We hopped up on the back of my Cadillac and waited as Alice drove up in her Denali. Ridiculous. Jasper jogged over to help her out; she was too little to hop down, and her hiked-up plaid skirt would have revealed her cute little ass if she did. Not that anyone would have minded, or seen anything that hadn't already been seen; but hell, she had to keep up appearances, right?

As did we all.

The three of us trudged on to class, a path clearing as we strolled across campus.

Now, I'm not saying that we had a Right Stuff moment when we parted through crowds. We were approachable. It's just that everyone knew not to approach us unless expressly invited to do so with a beckon, a curled finger, or a simple "get the fuck over here." The kids at this institution knew better than to fuck with Us. We were in charge here.

I saw Fag Newton trailing after the Swan. Dammit. I needed to get that shit free and clear from her attachment.

"Jasper," I murmured, lifting an eyebrow in Newton's direction. J knew what to do. He and Newton had had more than one tiff over the years; Jasper rather enjoyed pushing the guy around. His emphasis on "Michael Newton, the _Third_" back in grade school had pegged him as a target for the rest of his miserable existence in Forks. He may have belonged to one of the oldest families around here, but as far as social standing went, he was fuckall at the bottom of the pecking order. Fag.

Sometimes Jasper was subtle about taunting _La Tapette_. Too bad Mike was never good in French; it took him years to find out we had cleverly found a new way to call him "fag". _Tapette_ once tweaked out at one of Emmett's parties, and we got him to draw all over himself with pink Sharpie. Was it too mean? Oh, well.

But subtlety was not on today's menu. I could smell it in the air. Jasper was feeling feisty, and it was making me skittish. Or maybe it was because flashes of my Bella sex dream were finally breaking through my scotch buzz.

"Fucking Jasper," Emmett muttered, coming up behind Alice and feeling her up the back of her skirt. She shrieked and turned, smacking him in the chest. Fore play. I needed some of that. I briefly contemplated nuzzling the just-emerged Rosalie in the neck, but she never stood for that shit. And there was no use in raising her ire before school even began; since we all had multiple classes together, it would make the day long if our illustrious Golden Girl was a flaming cunt to everyone because of my hard-on.

The unsuspecting _Tapette_ had stopped and practically crashed into Bella. Fucker. I think he did it on purpose so he could press his body against her ass. A tactic he stole from me back in the seventh grade.

Jasper didn't waste any time. Before Bella could pull _Tapette's_ boner out of her ass, J had sidled up and pulled his pants down. Around his ankles.

Tightie whities. Of course.

I wanted to keep a straight face. I did. But Bella turned around and eyed what was going on behind her. A mischievous smile lit up her already beautiful face. A ray of sunshine broke through the clouds like out of some fucking cheesy romance story, lighting her up like an angel and some shit. She had a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and an "I need to be fucked" hint of hunger blazing in her eyes as she looked over at us. Over at me. Like she knew I was behind the pantsing.

How astute of her.

The first bell rang, and Jasper jogged back over to our group as we parted the student body to get to class. He had English first with me and Alice; Rose and Emmett stalked off to the most bullshit class of them all- Physics. The two of them had a not-so-friendly competition over who would win the Future Engineers of America scholarship that I was pretty sure would lead to some decent fuckin' in the end. Or in The End. Lucky fucker. Emmett's been hitting Rosalie Hale off and on for years; they hated to love each other. Or at least each other's fuck parts.

First period with Derb. Lovely. She was also the newspaper advisor; the only school activity besides soccer and making out under the bleachers that I participated in. Mostly because it kept Father happy. Now I could see how it would pay off since Mrs. Derb loved me and everything I did. I think she ignored my Lothario tendencies because I'm such a fucking brilliant writer. Now I can do whatever the fuck I want in class. Fucking _excellent._

I took my usual middle row, back seat and Jasper and Alice seated themselves around me, as per protocol; Bella took a seat the row over and a few seats up in front of Jasper. Nice. We both had a decent view of her legs now. I watched as she loosened the tie of her uniform with a sigh and reached down into her grungy black backpack; she whipped out a small paperback, leaned back into her chair until her knees hit the seat in front of her, and started to read. She wasn't even paying attention to Derb, who was cheerfully explaining the syllabus and roster. Same old shit; different year.

What is she reading? I could see her sitting there all still, only moving to lick her finger and turn the page. Her hand came up to brush a lock of hair out of her face, and I finally got a look at the title. _Tropic of Cancer_. Fucking _nice_.

Derb was sitting now, waiting for the announcements to ring out. Moments of silence do me no good since I get fucking bored so very easily. I faced forward and started to hum. And had to suppress my grin.

I could see Jasper staring at me from the corner of my eye; he tossed his fedora at me. Picking it up and tossing it on my head at an angle over my eye, I leaned to the side and said, "whatsa matter, J? What've you got against the Foo Fighters?"

"Don't fucking say 'Foo Fighters' to me, _E_," he sneered. I looked over my shoulder at Alice, whose eyes had lit up like frickin' Christmas at the mention of the Foos, just as I had intended.

"Speaking of Foo Fighters and drummers I've fucked… Daddy just got me tickets to Incubus. He got ten, just in case. So start deciding who you're going to be fucking in six weeks, Edward. Never forget what happened when we went to that damned Steve Miller show and you brought… what was her name? Whatever…" And she kept on prattling happily away, getting that glow in her eyes. Alice sure did love musicians.

It's why Jasper took up the guitar so many years ago. Poor Confused Torch Carrier. The only thing he'll ever be chicken about is Alice. He felt he never stood a chance with her, so he just worshipped her silently and painfully. And I, being the fucking Prince that I am, kept my mouth shut about it. We never, ever spoke of it since he had drunkenly confessed the sad truth to me years ago. Plus, since he was such a cold prick to everyone on the outside and therefore my perfect friend, I felt that I owed it to him to keep quiet.

This didn't mean that I didn't make veiled references to it. Constantly.

I kept humming.

"Cullen. I will choke you," he murmured. So, I did what any good friend would do. I whipped out my phone and texted my girl over in the office.

_play foo fighters best of you during announcements_

I knew she would. She did everything I asked of her. Everything.

And a few minutes later, the announcements began and there the song was. Fucking _wonderful_. I tossed the hat back at Jasper. And knew that I'd pay for that later. Especially when Alice started drumming along with her index fingers on the desk top. Stifling a grin, I wondered how Whitlock would get me back. I almost looked forward to it. He had the most devious mind since… well, Edward Cullen.

Forty minutes of watching Bella blatantly read her filthy book passed by. Derb kept calling on her, asking for her opinion on some of the books on the reading list, and every time, Bella would answer the interrogations, and it seemed like she was always correct as the teacher got increasingly annoyed by her answers. Especially when she answered the Moliere question in flawless French.

It was like she took a page out of the Cullen playbook. Hot.

The bell rang, startling Bella from her smut. She dropped the Miller and I saw Jasper plop his hat on his head and give me a huge grin. _Oh, shit_. He had noticed my ogling. Time for payback.

He rushed over and picked up her book before she even had time to react; straightening up, he held out his hand to her, helping her up and out of her desk. She was so petite; she barely came up to his chest, which means she'd be the perfect height for me to lift up and carry around when we were fucking. _Nice_.

Jasper smoothly reached down and picked up her backpack, smiling and carrying on and flirting shamelessly. He certainly is a charming motherfucker; it was that Southern nanny he had as a kid; she taught him to always act the gentleman; it's how he rivaled me for the amount of tail he got on a weekly basis. I relied on my killer wit; he relied on his charm. We made quite the pair.

He was standing very close to her now, and he leaned down to whisper shamelessly in her ear; she giggled and blushed a bit, and I wanted to punch him in the throat. He held out her backpack and she turned around, slipping her arms in the straps. Jasper then lifted his head and made direct eye contact with me since I hadn't moved- I was too annoyed and absorbed by him stepping in on my shit on purpose. He lifted one corner of his mouth and then mouthed over her head, "Foo Fighters, bitch."

Dick. Touche. That was a good one.

Alice pulled me out of the red haze that had settled over my eyes with a tug on my sleeve and a questioning twinkle in her eye.

"Everything okay, gorgeous?" she asked. I smirked at her and put my arms around her shoulders. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath as we made our way out the door; Jasper was holding it open for Bella and as Alice and I sailed through, I held my fist out for him to hit.

"Nice one."

"I know."

"Don't do it again."

"Or what? I do believe you owe me for getting to Kate first."

I sighed. He was right.

But I wanted in first. _Needed_ in first.

Because of the bet.

He patted me on the back as we walked out, his eyes glazing over briefly as Alice brushed up against him.

Karma, dick.

The four of us walked down the hall, and I could feel the whispering of the student body as they all noticed that the New Girl was walking with _us_. A feat that not many had ever accomplished, and she wasn't even aware of it.

Alice and Bella had some art class together next, so Jasper and I trudged off to Physics, a silence settling between us as we were absorbed in our thoughts. And I'm sure we were both thinking the same thing. What are we going to do tonight, Edward? Same thing we do every night, Jasper. Try to take over the girls.

Lunchtime hit, and I was both elated and irritated that Alice had dragged Bella along to sit with us. We had calculus together, all six of us, and Alice had whispered to me that Bella already had college credit in it from her last school; Jesus. Maybe I had some competition. I thought chicks weren't supposed to be very good in math.

Rosalie primly sat next to me, sidling up so that our thighs were touching. Alice did the same on my other side, and the boy-girl-boy ratio was preserved across from us as Jasper and Emmett flanked Bella, who was sitting across from me. It was odd how we felt balanced now; but did I want my next conquest to be our sixth? I don't think so. It would take too long for her to get over it. And I didn't want to throw the group dynamic off. Then again… things might be temporarily weird after I fuck Rosalie and Alice. We'll see.

Rose was using her simpering Junior League voice to question Bella about how she found Forks. It was odd; these two spoke to each other through clenched teeth; maybe they had had some sort of run-in at the party last night or something. I didn't doubt it; I could already tell Bella was a firebrand, and God knows Rosalie Hale is a bitch to everyone and everything, much less to the competition for my affection.

No one was really eating as we were all raptly paying attention to the strained conversation between the two most gorgeous girls in the school. As was half the student body. I wasn't even listening, just watching each set of lips as they tossed out vaguely veiled insults at each other.

Just as it was going to get seriously nasty (which I was silently cheering for), Jasper elbowed Bella and handed her his flask. That broke her verbal sparring stride, which I'm sure was his intention. He got bored as easily as I did.

She eyed the ugly thing and chuckled. "Coleman, huh? Is there even a Wal-Mart in Forks?"

"Target. I wouldn't be caught dead in Wal-Mart."

"Ooh, I love the Target. They have the best fucking trail mix I've ever tasted."

"They do. And kudos to you for admitting you shop at Target."

"Of course she shops there, Jas," Rose interjected. "She's _nouveau_ _riche_, remember?"

"You bet your sweet ass I am," Bella said, saluting Rose with the flask and poising it to her mouth. She tilted her neck back and in one breath emptied the thing. That's fucking impressive. Bombay is a strong damned gin.

Jasper's eyes glazed over a bit, and I swear, if he fucks with her I'll… well, I'll be pissed, that's for damned sure. Using the same hand she was holding the Coleman with, she swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, capped the flask, and tossed it over to Jasper. He grinned appreciatively while eyeing her up and down; he leaned to her ear and said, "Now you owe me a drink."

"So let's do something tonight, then. No, wait. I promised the Chief I'd hang out with him since I partied with you people last night. Michael said something about my needing to be there, although I can't figure out why. You uppity assholes need to remove your wads of cash out of your asses."

And with that, she slipped out from in between J and Emmett, pulled on her backpack, and waltzed off, but not before looking over her shoulder and winking at me.

Wow. What a bitch.

I love it.


	4. Chapter 4

**i see you're still with us, and that is a nice thing.**

**now, read jandco writing bella, and be amazed. this chapter humbles me.**

**and turns me on, of course.**

**this one's for you, Ames. please don't cut me.**

_twilight no es mio._

**Bella**

Whitlock caught up quick when I walked away, like I knew he would.

"You can't hang with the chief tonight; you gotta come to poker at Emmett's house," he said, and he didn't whine it, like Newton would have. He stated it, like it was fact.

"And why do I have to do that?" I asked.

I would have told anyone else in this school to fuck off, but I liked Jasper.

He was absolutely non-pretentious and didn't do a damn thing to make himself fit in- yet, just by doing that, he fit in.

Shopping at Target and not having a five hundred dollar hair cut made him a rebel to these people, and every cool crowd has a rebel.

"Plenty of reasons, new, naïve Bella," he said, draping an arm around me.

He smelled like soap and sandalwood, not Polo- like everything else with a penis in this school did.

Under his school-regulated blazer and tie, he wore an old Doobie Brothers concert T-shirt.

I liked Jasper. He might just be my only ally.

"Enlighten me, Jasper," I said, letting his arm stay wrapped around my shoulder.

"I want to be friends," he shrugged. "You know Coleman, you like gin and, fuck- you might be the only other person in this school who has actually eaten Target trail mix. I think we might be best friends."

"Aren't your best friends Cullen and company?"

"Which brings us to reason number two."

"Oh?"

"You want Cullen, and he'll be there."

I couldn't deny it.

I told the truth.

"I can't have Cullen."

Jasper laughed.

"Of course you can. He's not exactly discriminatory when it comes to bed fellows. It's easier to get down his pants than it is to get his phone number."

Fabulous.

"I don't doubt my sexual prowess," I sniffed. "I mean- I literally can't have him."

"Why?" Jasper asked.

I wasn't ready to disclose Rosalie Hale just yet, so I changed the subject.

"Why don't you answer one for me now?"

"Shoot," Jasper said, and he lifted the arm that was around me so the refilled Coleman was back up to my lips.

I took a quick sip and let the burn in my throat fade out before I asked my question.

"Okay, Jasper Whitlock, you're a cool, good-looking guy—"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Anyway, these people adore you, just because you don't give a fuck."

"You're very perceptive, Swan; go on."

"I've seen the way you look at Alice Brandon. Why don't you hit that?"

"How do you know I haven't?" he asked, without missing a beat.

"Perceptive, remember? I can see the fruit of Brandon's loins is longed after, unchartered territory for you…but what has me stumped is…why? I've seen the way most of the female population looks at you, with either contempt or lust…so I can deduce you've been through most of the chicks here, which means, you, Jasper, got game. What gives with Brandon?"

"I'm not a drummer with a heroin addiction in a pseudo-alternative pop band."

"No, I suppose you aren't."

"Alice doesn't do high school guys. Alice doesn't do college guys or married guys or bass players or lead singers…Alice does drummers."

"Alice is a groupie?"

"Alice prefers the term percussion enthusiast."

"Hmm…has she done anyone I would have heard of?"

"Her most recent rendezvous was with the Foo Fighters douche."

"Taylor Hawkins?" I squeaked, in an embarrassing fan girl moment.

Jasper groaned.

"Taylor Hawkins. The bane of my cockblocked existence."

"She likes him?"

"I'll just say there have been repeat performances…and encores, from what I hear, anyway. Her dad is a music bigwig…she gets backstage passes to everything."

"Wow…"

"Don't do it, Bella," Jasper warned.

"What?"

"Don't let yourself be impressed by them. That's Forks Academy suicide."

"Hmm. Thanks for the tip."

"No problem. Okay, I'm about to be painfully honest with you, Bella."

"Do it," I said, smiling up at him

"I like you. You're a good egg. I have my arm around you right now because not only are we now friends, but it's pissing Cullen off—"

"Why—"

"If we're going to be friends, you should know I don't like being interrupted—"

"Okay," I said, interrupting on purpose.

He smiled.

"It's pissing him off because he wants in your underwear…and I'm pissing him off because he makes references to drummers and the Foo Fighters—"

"You are a couple of petty bitches," I interrupted again.

"True. I just thought you should know exactly what was going on."

"Thank you. Why do you think Edward wants me?"

"He's got a thing about being first. He claims it's for sanitary reasons, but the truth is he's just worried to have a turn with a chick after she's had me. I'm the best lay in the school; I raise standards."

I shook off the fact that this was the second guy in twenty four hours to announce to me he was the best lay in the school.

"Excuse me? What makes any of you so sure there will even be a second, let alone a first?"

"You spent the summer with Newton. You're unsatisfied," he said.

"Funny. I don't make a habit of racking up numbers. Tell your friend to move on."

"You read _Tropic of Cancer_ in class. You have good times. And don't get pissy with me. I'm just filling you in. Like I said, I like you—"

"You're using me to make Edward mad."

"Doesn't mean I don't like you. And I told you what I was doing. That has to count for something."

I considered this.

He had a point.

Then I considered what he said about Edward.

He was after me.

I _wanted_ him to be after me.

Fuck.

If he was going to be trying…and I was going to be refusing…this could kill me.

Jasper and I stopped outside of my next class.

"Okay, Jasper, I'll let you use me to piss Edward off, but only because I'm a sucker for pathetic, unrequited love stories, and clearly you're the underdog. But…aren't you guys, like, lifelong boys or some shit like that?"

"Yep. We just like to piss each other off."

"Whatever—"

"Hey, why can't you have him? Did you leave a boyfriend in the desert or something?"

"No…"

Just then Rosalie strolled up and her icy blue eyes went from me to Jasper, then back again.

"My, my Whitlock…you're certainly making our new student comfortable…and here I thought Edward would see to that."

She winked at me and walked off.

Twisted bitch.

Jasper watched her walk away and turned to me with narrowed eyes.

"Ahhh…I should have known," Jasper sighed. "What did she do? How'd she get you to stay away from him?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. She's a scheming bitch. I love her to death, but she plays with people for fun. How'd she get you?"

No use denying it.

"I did her counselor boyfriend at polishing camp, which, by the way, is anything but civilized. She unjustly accused me of being unable to keep my legs closed, I, of course, rebutted, and she told me nobody could resist this Cullen fellow. Normally, I wouldn't care what anyone thought, but, fuck- she just –I hate her. I have to prove her wrong."

"You realize you could just have him and get the whole thing out of your system?"

"And have that bitch gloat for the rest of my already stellar high school experience? I think not."

"He won't give up. Just so you know."

"Well, I won't give in."

"We'll see."

Edward sauntered up; his tie had been loosened and the top button on his collar was undone.

I felt my legs start to spread already.

Dammit.

Edward was humming under his breath and smiling at Jasper like he had at lunch- Foo Fighters again. Only this time, it made sense.

"You in this class?" he asked me.

"Yes," I said, not really able to look at him.

Jasper hugged me in to him and kissed the top of my head.

I hugged back, unknowingly fueling Edward's lustful fire.

His mouth turned in to a crooked grin…and I knew he knew that's normally all it took to get panties to drop.

"I gotta get to class. See ya at poker, bitch," Jasper said to Edward. "You bring the scotch. I'm bringing Bella."

Edward's eyes narrowed at Jasper.

"Pick me up. I need a ride."

"Didn't the doctor just buy you a new car?"

"Yeah, but I'll slum it and sit in your piece of shit GTO for the sake of avoiding a DUI."

"Fuck you."

"See ya at nine," Edward smiled, and his hand went to my lower back as we walked in to the classroom.

His hand at my back made my legs shake and my heart rate quicken.

I had to jerk away before I lost Rosalie's challenge in the janitor's closet.

"Do I make you nervous?" Edward smirked.

I tried to sneer, but it felt quivery.

I found a desk quickly, in the middle of the two girls who were in the bathroom at Emmett's the night before.

I didn't exactly have warm feelings for them, but if I wasn't surrounded, Edward would try to sit by me, and my feelings for him were a little too warm.

"That's reserved,"Lauren said with a smile and venom in her voice.

"I wasn't aware one could make reservations in history class," I said in a clipped tone.

"Well, we can. Move," Jessica said.

"That's okay, ladies, thanks for saving the seat anyway," Edward said, smiling at them as he walked to the row behind us.

I got a nasty glare from both sides and rolled my eyes.

Edward sat in the desk directly behind mine and scooted it forward until I felt a small bump when his desk hit my chair.

I stared forward and surprised myself when I instinctively smiled when Emmett walked in the door.

He carried only one book easily in one huge hand and let his other hand hit the top of the doorway on his way in.

He flashed me a big dimpled grin and made his way over, bumping fists with other kids and actually winking at girls as he went.

He paused in the aisle where I sat with my unwilling friends.

"Shit. Talk about a devil's trio…this is nice."

I heard Edward's low laugh behind me.

"Ew," Jessica said shortly, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

Pssh. Like I'd pick her either.

"Don't hate on B, Jess. I like her," Emmett said. He reached over and put a finger under my chin. "You got ta keep ya head up," he said, quoting Tupac.

I had to smile.

He winked back and plunked behind me next to Edward.

The teacher had mercy on me and started the class.

I cracked open my _Tropic of Cancer_ and prepared for another long hour.

Edward didn't seem to notice or care that the teacher was mid-lecture, because suddenly I heard a scrape at my chair and felt his warm skin inches from my cheek.

"Do you mind?" I hissed.

"No. Miller?" He asked, and his breath tickled me and his smell was strong and good.

"Yes," I whispered. "Will you please back up before I get yelled at?"

"Oh, Smith won't yell."

"If you talk through her lecture, she might."

"We're currently sitting in the Cullen Wing of Forks Academy. My father pays these people to let me do whatever the hell I want, though he refers to it as 'giving back to the community'."

"Nice. Well, my father is a lowly, middle-class cop, and I'm here on a trust fund and I could get yelled at so—"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Right."

I felt his finger softly move a lock of hair behind my ear, and he leaned in even closer.

"Bella…I really didn't mean it," he whispered. "…really."

And he sounded so sincere and regretful, and maybe even…sweet?

But then I remembered what Rosalie said…he could sweet talk the panties off of Mother Teresa.

"It's fine," I said, stiffly, and it was. I wasn't offended by his comment, it was simply fact…I would let him think I was offended though, because then maybe he'd stay the hell away and I'd have half a chance of winning Rosalie's challenge.

"You're not acting like it's fine."

I turned my head too quickly and smiled, but I hadn't realized how close he was…the tips of our noses were touching.

He didn't move back, only cocked his head to the side, perfectly poised for a kiss.

My breath stopped and I inched closer, forgetting Rosalie, forgetting I was in the middle of class, forgetting everything but his white teeth and his perfectly shaped lips and his loosened tie.

"April, 1961," he said, and then he was out of my sight and I heard the clunk of the two back legs of his desk returning back to the floor.

What?

I was completely confused.

"Thank you, Mr. Cullen," Ms. Smith said from the front of the room.

She called on him and I hadn't even noticed.

"I'm not done," Edward said. "While it's true that's when the Bay of Pigs officially began, under Kennedy's approval of course, if you want to get technical, and I think we should- after all, this is an important piece of U.S. history- it was Vice President Nixon who proposed the plan, which was actually originally much more modestly made up by Eisenhower."

"Thank you, Mr. Cullen," Ms. Smith sighed, and I could tell she regretted calling on him almost as much as I regretted her calling on him.

"I'm not done," he said again.

"We're moving on," she said.

"I really feel like we should spend more time on this," Edward insisted, arrogant and patronizing.

"It's the first day, Edward. We're just going over the syllabus."

"Suit yourself. I just would rather this fine institution lived up to its reputation," Edward said.

"I think I can handle it," Smith said flatly.

"I have every confidence you will," Edward said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Moving on," Smith said, obviously beyond irritated at having to put up with a smart ass, wickedly intelligent seventeen-year-old prick.

The rest of the class passed slow…then the rest of the day.

Edward didn't talk to me again, which is what I wanted…I thought.

He smirked briefly when I passed him in the hall, and the traitor part of me wanted him to say something.

It was also the traitor part of me that didn't object when Jasper showed up at my house that night at 8:45 in his GTO to take me to this infamous poker party I'd heard so much about.

The traitor in me also decided to wear a very short denim skirt and an old vintage top that was white, gauzy, and practically transparent…but there were eyelet ruffles on the cap sleeves that sweetened out the slut…or so that's how I justified it.

Turns out Charlie had taken on an extra shift policing the good people of Forks, so I had zero to do in the way of explaining when Jasper pulled up, blaring Kenny Loggins from his crappy car stereo.

I hopped in his car and raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't peg you for a Loggins fan."

"Know when to hold 'em, Swan…it's poker night. And I didn't peg you for a tease, yet here you sit, half-naked, with no intention of putting out for anybody."

"I guess we have a lot to learn about each other," I said.

"You are going to be trouble," he sighed, pulling out of my driveway.

My eyes bulged at Edward's looming house.

Overwhelming was an understatement.

Of course he lived in the outskirts of Forks. This house was _bigger_ than Forks.

Jasper used the manual handle for the window, rolled it down and reached out to press a button on an intercom right outside the iron wrought gates of Edward's house.

"Are you kidding?" I asked.

"This family gets off on pretention. His father is the best plastic surgeon in the U.S…which means he basically lives in L.A….but the new wife insists she feels safer with the gate, because there's so much random crime in Forks. Personally, I think she just feels richer with the gate."

"I see."

"I can hear you, douchebag," Edward's voice came through the intercom.

"I know," Jasper said. "Lemme in, bitch."

We drove the mile up the driveway and hopped out.

Jasper walked in the heavy door and I followed.

I could hear the echo of my breathing; the ceiling was probably as high as the tree in my backyard and everything was…sterile.

I was about to tell Jasper I'd wait outside when what I thought must be Edward's sister came flouncing around the corner, her high heel slippers clicking on the marble.

I tried not to laugh at the cliché that was this girl.

Her strawberry blonde hair was piled in waves on her head; she had on full make up and big jewelry, despite the fact that she wore a light pink nightgown that showed artificial cleavage up to her chin…the lace robe she wore over the short nightgown matched the stiletto slippers.

There was a rock on her finger the size of my fist, and her hand was wrapped around a filled crystal champagne flute.

"Jasper, darling! Have you come to play with Edward?" she asked, leaning in to kiss the tip of Jasper's nose.

"Hello, Tanya—"

"Jasper, you know I'm more comfortable with you calling me Mrs. Cullen."

"Right…hey, Mrs. Cullen, remember when I was a freshman and you were a senior and we had the same P.E. class? You let me call you Tanya then."

"Don't be cute. Or do," she purred and ran a hand through Jasper's shaggy hair.

Oh, hell.

Edward walked in, his hair damp and all over…I could still smell him warm and soapy from the shower he must've just had.

He was wearing faded jeans and while he walked, he was buttoning up the last few buttons on his white collared shirt.

"You should have waited for Mommy to help you get clean, Edward. I hoped you washed behind your…ears."

"I think I got everything," Edward said. "I'll see you later."

"Oh. You're going out," Mrs. Cullen pouted. "Why don't you all ever play here?"

Edward started to roll up the cuff on his sleeve to his forearm and looked at his stepmother and raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be home later," he said.

"Don't make me ground you, Edward," she said, smiling rather seductively and straightening his collar in anything but a maternal way.

"Tanya—"

"I told you to call me Mommy."

My eyes were going to fall out of my head.

This was by far the oddest thing I've ever witnessed.

Edward lightly held her wrists, which were still at his neck.

"I'll be home later, Mommy. You can tuck me in tonight."

She kissed the corner of his mouth.

"That's Mommy's good boy," she said, then she clicked away.

I sat there stunned while Edward and Jasper busted out laughing.

I was shuffled in to the backseat of the GTO and listened to Edward and Jasper talk while trying to find composure to ask questions about this.

"Carlisle's hard work has paid off," Jasper said.

"Some of his finest work," Edward agreed.

"The symmetry is really amazing," Jasper said.

"He thinks so, too. That's why they're displayed so prominently."

"Remind me to congratulate Carlisle on a job well done next time he's in town," Jasper said.

"Will do."

"Wait…so, that was your stepmother?"

"Correction," Edward said, pulling down the mirrored sun visor so he could look at me and all I saw were his piercing green eyes, "that was my fourth stepmother and former classmate, Tanya. Or- as she prefers- Mommy."

"Is she some kind of pervert?" I asked.

Edward and Jasper laughed.

"Sure," Edward said, "but who isn't?"

He had a point, I thought, as I looked down at my tease shirt.

"Do you like, sleep with her?" I asked, because I had a feeling nothing was too taboo to bring up with them.

"No," Edward said, sounding more than mildly offended. "She's my stepmother. God, and you accuse others of being perverted."

"Uh, I wasn't wrong when I noticed the glaringly obvious sexual undertones going on."

"No, you weren't," Edward conceded. "She likes to play. She gets off on it."

"Why do you play along?"

"I'm sorry, did you not get a good look at her?" Jasper cut in. "Plus, she's smart as hell. She lured Carlisle, a loaded plastic surgeon who spends eighty five percent of the year across the country, to marry her…and she picked him for the free implants, Botox, and young strapping buck son. She's got the best of both worlds."

"She does…and I play along because, well, she cooks a hell of a breakfast, she walks around topless when we both pretend I can't see, and I feel bad for her. Ramon is off for the season. She's lonely."

"Who's Ramon?" I asked.

"The pool boy," Edward said. "He's only around in the summer. Sven, the gardener, takes the spring shift and the Mommy games go on throughout the winter and the fall."

"Does she sleep with them?" I asked.

"Sleep?" Edward asked, shifting in his seat and grabbing something from his back pocket, "No. But she does fuck them an awful lot."

I craned my neck forward discreetly and watched Edward slip a money clip from a thick folded wad of crisp cash.

I don't think I've ever seen so much cash in my life…and he was just preparing for a high school poker game.

"Might as well hand it over now, bitch," Jasper said, as Edward deftly counted the money.

"Dream on, poor boy. I'm on fire tonight, I can feel it," Edward said.

"Well, that Tanya thing is fucked up," I said, still reeling.

"We're all fucked up, Bella. Welcome to Forks," Edward said, and snapped the visor shut.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**welcome, indeed.**

**seriously. how does she do it? jandco... my better half. my soul.**


	5. Chapter 5

**scotch scotch scotch**

**here's me.**

**Edward**

I pulled into the long driveway that led up to the McCarty House. Time to prep myself mentally. We'd been playing this game for over a year now; Alice really got off on surrounding herself with people having fun, and she threw a great little get-together. Good food, good music, good booze. And her cousin certainly enjoyed a good time- even if he couldn't stand losing to me.

I was the reigning champion of poker. It was a fact. People lost to me. Not that it stopped them from trying.

That's why not many were brave enough to sit at our table for this game- the big money was at the main table where Alice acted as dealer. Many a Forks Academy student tried to get in and win, and many left with tails tucked, sad expressions, and empty wallets.

I always tossed the winnings on a shelf in my closet. Mad money. I haven't had to draw on my bank account in a very long time for pocket cash.

I opened the door of the GTO, the creaking of the old hinges slashing through the night. I could hear some indie band that Alice probably discovered that day blaring and saw some girls hanging out on the porch. Probably waiting for me and Jasper to arrive.

He let Bella out of the back and held her arm as I followed behind them. I scowled at his back. He's really taking this far. Fucker.

"Ladies," I murmured, nodding my head at the nameless pussy directing sexy looks in my direction. A week ago, I would've gone in there, choosing which one I'd leave with.

Unfortunately, I had my sights set on the skirt in front of me. The one who was giggling as Jasper leaned into her ear, whispering and getting all touchy-feely.

Dick.

As we crossed into the house, Alice skipped over and took Bella's arm; the two seemed to be getting along. My mind wandered briefly as the two of them danced around, moving their hips and raising their arms over their heads in time to the music. Emmett came over them, putting his arms around me and Jasper.

"Side bet, tonight, gentlemen?" he said. We were all eyeing the two dancing girls.

"Bella," we all agreed, simultaneously. Words did not need to be exchanged. He who won would get first crack at the new girl.

Good thing I always win.

"I don't think tonight's your night, bitch," Jasper said confidently, strolling over to the Table. A few smaller games were going on, and I noticed the wannabes of Forks at those tables, Newton included. He was glumly watching Bella, who was obviously In with Us. Sorry, Newton; you had your chance. She's above you. The truth hurts.

"Time to fucking play," Emmett announced; he pulled a small remote from his pocket and sat down in his usual spot- right of the dealer, next to the mini bar. Some girl appeared out of nowhere, handing him his usual Jack and Coke. She leaned in and he planted a kiss on her neck, grinning and killing her with his dimples. She staggered off, whispering excitedly with her friends.

Alice seated herself, her dealer's green visor on her head as she lit up a cigar. I noticed Rosalie was absent, and I hoped she got here before the Game began. We had strict rules, and tardiness was not tolerated. Jessica sat down next to me, and I watched with narrowed eyes as Bella made her way to the table. I fucking hope she doesn't sit in Jasper's lap; that shit would piss me _off_.

"So, Bella," Emmett said, flickering a dimpled smile at her. She responded in kind, a sexy half-smirk lighting up her face. Jesus, she's hot.

"Emmett," she purred, plopping right down in his lap. His eyes widened; that actually took him by surprise, and trust me. That shit never happens. Nothing fazes Emmett McCarty, ever.

He recovered quickly; I saw that Jasper had noticed Emmett's reaction, too. This is going to be one interesting card game.

"You gonna be my lady luck tonight?" he said, his voice dropping slightly. Trying to be seductive. Emmett and the dimple were out in full effect, and I saw that she wasn't immune to it. She leaned in and said right into his eyes, "Big Poppa, let a playah play." And with that, she held his gaze as her hand dipped into her blouse… and she pulled out a wad of bills.

He looked glazed-over for a half of a second before chuckling deeply, then said, "I love it when you call me Big Poppa." She threw her head back and laughed; they were playing with each other. Dammit. "You can sit here, next to me," he said, patting the empty chair to his right. I watched with narrowed eyes as she primly took the seat, straightening out her cash.

"What's the buy-in?" she asked Alice, who responded with "A grand."

"Jesus, you rich fuckers are disgusting," she said lightly, tossing her cash to Alice, who nimbly retrieved the bills and handed Bella a stack of chips from behind her. We all followed suit, arranging our chips and drinks to suit our preferences. Some girl handed me a glass, and I accepted it without noticing who she was.

"Gentlemen, let's start off easy for the new people," Alice said, smiling serenely in Bella's direction. "Five card, no wilds. One draw."

"You guys might need to refresh me on the rules," Bella said evenly. I gave her the once-over; either she was fearless, or had no idea what the stakes were. This game was serious. Stanley shouldn't even be sitting here, but I know she was pursuing a piece of ass (from me) rather than glory and bragging rights like the rest of us were.

Emmett lifted the remote and hit play; his head started bobbing in time to his heroes.

Actually, we all were bobbing our heads. Ritual. And you really can't not move to Biggie.

Emmett was about to start rapping to Mase when Bella surprised us all by rather eloquently doing it for him. He lifted his eyebrows as he eyed her appreciatively; he looked over at me and Jasper, shaking his head while mouthing the word "hot". And it was. Bella was completely unconcerned with the look of disgust Jessica was tossing her as she bobbed side-to-side, her head swaying and hair brushing against Emmett who looked a little entranced. I bet she smelled good. I remembered taking a deep breath when I was teasing her in class earlier, and I shifted uncomfortably as I thought about the warmth of her skin when our noses touched. Such a sweet memory. Sweet because she was wearing a lacy bra, and I could see it underneath the front buttons of her blouse that was a size too small. God bless the thin uniform shirts of Forks Academy.

Rosalie chose that moment to burst through the door; she had probably heard Biggie and knew she was in trouble. She took the last empty seat, making hasty apologies and flicking her wad at Alice.

"You know the rules, Rose," Emmett growled. "Don't interrupt Biggie."

"Fuck off, McCarty. He hasn't started rapping yet. Besides, I had a class meeting that went on too long," she breathed, her eyes narrowing as she noticed Bella's proximity to him.

"Tough shit, Hale. Rules are rules."

"Oh, come on, Big Poppa," Bella said, placing her small hand on his forearm. His muscles rippled beneath her as he looked down; she was gazing up at him, a look of near worship on her face. Now that shit just isn't _fair_; how could anyone be expected to say no to those big brown eyes?

He sighed and smiled down at her. "Alright, Rose. If Bella says to let you in, well. Who am I to refuse the new girl?" Rose scowled as Bella looked directly at her and winked; well, fuck. Bella did that on purpose. I need to get _in_ there. I'm going to burst. She fucking did that on _purpose_. And Emmett isn't even aware he was just played.

Maybe I should show her how to win at poker. With manipulation skills like that, she'd probably give me a run for my money. Then I might actually enjoy myself when I came to these things.

"Pony up, bitch," Jasper said, elbowing me hard in the ribcage. I had been staring off into space, and luckily I wasn't daydreaming in Bella's direction. I was, however, staring at Jessica, who was taking it as an invitation, seeing how she scooted closer to me. I noticed in my peripheral vision that Emmett and Bella were cozy and leaning toward each other; at least it seemed to be making Jasper visibly uncomfortable, too. Good to know I'm not the only one bothered by the competition.

I picked up my lowball and swirled the scotch around the ice cubes, frowning as I tossed it back with one gulp. This is going to be a long night.

Five hands later, and my grin could not have been wider. Emmett was totally nickel and diming it, trying to make his money last. I guess having Bella sitting next to him, ever-so-often twirling her hair and sighing as she contemplated her cards, was distracting; he kept making bad bets. There was one point where I watched, fascinated and irritated, as she leaned over; he was alternating between scoping her cards and her juggs. I couldn't really tell whether she was doing it on purpose or not since she was losing abysmally; her stack of chips was half gone. Jasper was doing pretty well, but so far, I had only lost one round, and it had been a total bullshit fluke.

"I fold," Bella sighed, tossing her cards carelessly in front of her. She did it face up, and she really did have jack and shit in her hand. Poor girl. I'll make her feel better later.

"Read them. Weep," I said smugly, slapping my three of a kind down with gusto. Everyone groaned and did the thing where they disgustedly toss their cards at the table. Mine. All mine. I raked in my winnings, licking my finger as I carefully stacked the chips by color. I like to be a douche when we play poker; it suits me. It also throws everyone off, 'cause they all know I'm unstoppable. It'd be sort of nice to have a challenge, though.

Which I got, about an hour later.

Unbelievable.

The music even matched the odd turn of events that started my night from a high of win to a downshift of serious, confounding failure.

Sung, of course, by Big Poppa himself. Or Hovah. Or who-the-fuck-ever.

"_I'm a hustla, baby. I just want you to know…"_ Emmett was bouncing along, grabbing his draw of two as Alice blithely slid the cards over.

I glanced at my hand and noticed it; beautiful. Royal straight. Almost flush. On one draw. Fuck, I'm good.

Stanley had run out of money a while ago and was contenting herself with refilling my glass every time I ran out. Most of the other games had ended and everyone else was milling around, keeping an eye on our Table. Drinking. Gossiping. Doing other things that rich teenagers did in the absence of parental supervision. As per usual.

Rosalie wasn't much of a poker player, and she had not-so-gracefully lost her last bit of money to Bella over two pair. Idiot. She just didn't know when to fold 'em, nor when to walk away. She just couldn't help herself; she'd stay until the game was over, watching with jealousy at everyone else winning while she sat there, sulking. Sipping her Kamikazes. Whispering rude things to Alice with narrowed eyes, probably directing her secret commentary at Bella.

Jasper was on his last leg and threw all of his chips in with disgust; a last-ditch effort to win. Emmett was near there already; Bella had surprisingly made a decent showing and had a tidy pile in front of her, but it wasn't as big as mine.

"Oh, what the hell. Can I go all in? I'm getting bored," she said, pushing her chips out to the pot. Sure, why not? It'll make my victory that much sweeter when she loses to me. Her beginner's luck had to run out sometime.

"Well, why not. We can move on to bigger and better things," I said, smirking at her and leaning forward as I pushed my pile forward. Her eyes grew bigger and she raised an eyebrow at me while grinning devilishly.

Uh oh.

That grin told me everything I needed to know about Isabella Swan.

I didn't need to see her slap her cards down to know I had just lost.

A hustler. She was a hustler.

She had a full boat; Ladies over Cowboys.

Fuck.

I lost.

I lost big.

And I tried to hide my anger. I really did. But Emmett was howling; he jumped up from the table and scooped Bella up into his arms, dancing around. Those around us stopped their conversations, watching as the New Girl was paraded around; she was laughing, getting high fives from those around her. I heard more than one person marveling that "Cullen just lost!" and that "Cullen just lost to the New Girl!"

I realized then that her popularity was just cemented. She was in at the Cool Table, _and_ she could play poker.

And if there was one thing these rich bitches appreciated more than a hot girl, it was a hot girl who could handle her money. And her booze. She had been swilling gin and tonics ("juice, Edward. Fuck, it's 'gin and juice' when you're in my crib. Quit willfully disobeying the house rules") with Jasper the entire time, and I could have sworn she was drunk.

I guess it's possible for me to be wrong. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's always to my detriment.

For instance, when I bet my entire fucking pocket stash on a stupid card game.

And it was making me grumpy. Being wrong. Losing. Being show up by the new meat.

Watching Emmett touching her. He had one arm around her, hand balanced on her ass. Since her skirt was short, I could only imagine he had strategically placed his fingers somewhere fun. Up the back of the skirt was Emmett's thing.

His other arm was under her knees, swinging her around. Getting her to "accidentally" kick people. He dashed upstairs with her, and I almost lurched up from the table to follow them. To make sure Emmett wasn't indulging in a bet that he didn't win.

It seemed Jasper had similar thoughts, because he was similarly half-standing from the table, following the pair of them with his eyes as Emmett took the stairs two at a time, laughing boisterously; Bella's sweet, throaty laughter turned into a shriek as he ran across the walkway; everyone downstairs was craning their necks upward, watching with either hatred, jealousy, or longing as the two disappeared into the large rec room upstairs.

"Emmett! Put me the fuck down!" I heard her muffled shriek burst out. I had this crazy urge to go save her, but my brain caught up with my instinct half a second later and told me to remain where I was, finish my fucking scotch, and make out with Jessica Stanley. Bella was not in mortal peril. In fact, she was probably enjoying herself.

And Emmett.

This thought did not make me feel better.

Jasper seemed to be having similar thoughts, but I brushed that uneasy realization away. He had it for Alice, who had removed her dealer gear and was now cleaning up the mess on the table; Jasper jumped up to help her, murmuring and smiling and not touching. What a pussy. I grabbed my near-empty green bottle of happy scotch and lazily rose from the table, skulking over to the couch and heavily plopping myself down. Stanley was naturally on me a few beats later, curling her legs beneath her as she leaned on my shoulder. I didn't even know what she was saying, but I could feel her booze-soaked breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck as I craned my head around, trying to be nonchalant about my stalking.

For my eyes kept traveling upward where I could hear an occasional baritone barking out laughter, often followed by the sweet trilling of joyful mirth. He was making her laugh, dammit. Girls loved a funny guy.

Not a half-drunk, sullen Cullen.

So get in there, Edward. Fuck.

It seemed Jasper had similar ideas.

I followed him up the stairs, the both of us trying to look nonchalant as we sought out what exactly it was that was making Bella laugh so much.

Jasper had stopped at the doorway and was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed. I joined him on the other side of the doorway and saw what he was frowning at.

There Bella sat, up on the bar in the middle of the room. Emmett was all over her. Making out. Making her sigh. And there was his hand. Roaming.

It was as though I were transfixed. She was clearly enjoying it. I mean, I know Emmett has to be a good lay; he had quite a lot of checkmarks on his record. I had seen him kiss plenty of girls, but it had never bothered me until just now.

I should have moved. I mean, it's just rude to stand there, and both Jasper and I were doing it, like we were watching porn or something. And much like watching porn with a buddy, there were two strict rules that we both seemed to follow- keep your hands still, and don't make eye contact with each other.

She didn't have her legs wrapped around his waist, but it seemed only a matter of time. His lips were caressing her neck, moving from her jaw to her earlobe. He tickled her with the tip of his tongue, making her giggle a little, and she whispered into his ear. His throaty, breathy laughter rumbled in his chest, and I felt a huge rush of fire run through me- it should be _my_ ear she's whispering into; I wondered what she was saying. Maybe commenting on what his skin tasted like, or how wet she was getting. I had heard it all before; but I had never coveted hearing it from someone like I did just then.

I flicked my gaze down to his hands; I couldn't see the right, but his left sure was making good time as he covered her small waist with his palm, rubbing her body through the thin, gauzy, see-through shirt she had chosen to tease with that evening. His arm didn't move until she took her hand and put it on his shoulder, her fingers curling into a grasp as she scratched down his arm. I could see the faint red marks she left once her nails scraped across the skin of his forearms, and I heard him hiss as she clawed down- I knew when I saw those marks the next day that I would be _pissed_. She covered his hand with hers and moved both hands down. Down her curvy hip. Across her skirt. Down her firm thigh; I bet she's smooth and shaved. Maybe even _shaved_. I swear to God, if he gets knowledge of Bella Swan's shaving habits, I will lose it.

As soon as she had his hand on her knee she let go and then raised her head; he lifted his gaze, and I could imagine that Emmett Sex Look meeting her challenging glance; she grinned wickedly, that "I just kicked your ass at poker" look, and he started to move his hand. Up her leg. Up her thigh. The skin must be so soft. Her creamy thighs parted and he stepped in closer as he made it to the homeland- his hand was under her skirt. She threw her head back, biting her lip and closing her eyes. Sighing. Sighing with _contentment_. Like she was relaxed and happy. He leaned in and kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. Fuck, he's being gentle. Not the Emmett we've all come to know and love.

What the hell is this girl doing to us?

And why am I so pissed about this?

Normally, I'm only too happy to see one of my boys get some. I mean, yeah. I like to get there first. But fuck. This girl's just so… so… I couldn't even begin. To say. She was infuriating. And hot.

What an odd combo.

I realized I was biting my lip and crossing my arms at the exact moment Emmett wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up because she snapped her eyes open and locked gazes with me. He started to nuzzle her neck and move his hands up to cup her tits, and she grinned crookedly at me, watching me watch her. Her eyes half-closed, she let Emmett feel her up a bit, and she alternated locking eyes with me and with Jasper, whom I had forgotten existed until I saw her gaze leave mine. I didn't even want to look over at J, because it was bad enough that I was ready to kill Emmett, let alone Jasper. And I couldn't exactly be pissed at either of them for doing what we always do.

Take over the girls.

It sounded so stupid when I said it to myself.

Fuck. I need to get this chick out of my system.

I finally looked over at Jasper, and he had a look of consternation on his face. Alice or not, it was obvious Jasper was having a confused Edward moment, too. Aw, hell. This is going to get complicated.

I should back out of the bet.

Bros before hoes and all that.

Back out?

Wait.

No fucking way.

I'm Edward Cullen.

I do _not_ back out of a good bet.

My eyes narrowed.

Time to be a dick. Chicks dig that, right?

"Newton to McCarty, huh? Not too shabby. I mean, the Newtons are the kings of the sporting goods world, but the McCartys are related to actual royalty. You've done your homework, I see," I said as snarkily as I could. Emmett had groaned at my first words and put his hands on the counter Bella was sitting on, stretching out his elbows and taking one step back; probably trying to will his boner away. Bella sat up as soon as my tone turned seriously acidic, somewhere around the word "Newton". She shifted her gaze to meet mine and saw the challenge implicit there; pursing her lips, she shot out an equally rude "Pardon me?"

"Oh, it's no big deal. We get a lot of social climbers around here. Your skill is astounding though; I salute you," I said, turning on my heel and trying to not stomp as I hissy fitted my way back down the stairs.

"Harsh, dude," Jasper called down over the banister. And it was; I knew that.

Tripping on the last stair, I made my way to the bar. Thank God. Jessica was there, grinning. She held a glass up to my lips and said, "Poor baby. Is Captain Whitlock pissing you off again?" Her simper was irritating, but she had my scotch, and hell. I might dance the line between stereotypical WASP and alcoholic, but I just needed that shit right now.

"Thanks, love," I said, stumbling over to the couch. I'll start sobriety tomorrow, I swear.

About one hour and a thousand sobering thoughts later, Jasper leaned over me, dangling the keys in my face.

"Time to go get tucked in, bitch. And dude… you need to calm down. I think you actually hurt her feelings. Not cool. Don't do it again."

Pfft. Like he was one to talk. I groaned and got up off the couch; Jessica and Lauren had flanked me again, trying to get me to go places and do things that I was tired of. Luckily, they're both only too happy to let each other yammer so long as I occasionally grunted an acknowledgement or two.

I frowned, noticing that Jasper was driving Bella home. I was pretty sure that she'd get a ride from Emmett, if not stay over. Alice was rubbing her arm, a worried expression on her face. Why did Bella look so upset? Certainly not over my comment.

We drove back to my house in silence; I held the door open for Bella as she silently got out of the back and climbed up front. Murmuring my thanks to Jasper, I made my way into the house. I wasn't really drunk, but sobriety was a long way off. I got a drink of water and took it upstairs, noticing the light in my dad's bedroom filtering from under the door. I left my room open and silently got undressed, noticing my pressed uniform for tomorrow neatly lain out on my desk chair. Mommy certainly is consistent about taking care of her boy. I quickly brushed my teeth and splashed cold water on my face, running my wet fingertips through my hair.

"Did you all have fun?" I heard her say as she sashayed into my room. Ahh, the nightly ritual. I know this is wrong, but it's just too much fun to stop. I dutifully climbed into bed and watched with silent amusement as Tanya made her way over, perching herself on the edge of the bed and running her hand across my jaw.

"My, my. You certainly are scruffy for a teenager," she purred, running the backs of her fingertips along the other side of my face. She really is ridiculous; ah, well. It's the least I can do to keep her entertained while my Father was away.

"Well, I'd better let you get some sleep. Good night, darling," she whispered, leaning in and kissing my forehead. She lingered for a moment, the smell of her expensive body cream wafting over me as her exposed cleavage loomed in front of my face; she was tossing them at me as always, and for once, the temptation to just grab them wasn't there. Great. Bella's fucking with my dirty impulses now, too.

"Good night, Mommy," I said. I had to suppress the chuckle as she sighed. "Light on, or off?"

"On, please." She _really_ needs to get knocked up so she'll have a new project.

She got up and swayed on out of there, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder as she softly shut the door behind her.

As always, I turned into my pillow and let out a hearty laugh. I sat up, putting my arms behind my head, still chuckling. I turned to reach for a book on my nightstand when I got the shit startled out of me.

"That is just the sickest fucking thing I've ever witnessed," said a sweet voice, and I quickly flipped over toward my opened bedroom window, watching with amazement and a racing heart as Bella neatly climbed in. I got a flash of white panties as her leg swung over the sill, and she hopped down and stood right at the side of my bed, fists planted on her hips as she stared me down, defiance in her eyes.

"I've never been more glad for trellises in my life than I am at this moment," I said, amusement clear in my tone. She was just unbelievable. Her hair was a little wild, like the wind had been tossing it around. Her clear complexion was now ruddy with the strain of scaling the sides of houses, and she was slowing her breathing, which had been erratic with the effort of climbing. Her thin blouse was a little off-kilter, her skirt riding a little high. A slow smile spread on my face. What is she _doing_ here?

"What the hell do you want?" I asked. It wouldn't be the first time a chick had climbed in here, but this one was definitely the most welcome of the bunch.

"Social climber?" she whispered, her voice dark and ominous. Uh oh. I guess she took that seriously.

"Is that what you think I am?" She took a step closer, and for one wild second, I thought she was going to hit me.

Guess I'd better apologize.

"Oh, that. Look, I'm sorry. I just… was thrown off. I didn't see you as an Emmett type of girl."

"And what, pray tell, is an Emmett type of girl? Rich? Bitchy? Blonde? Student body president, perhaps?" she said, leaning toward me. Poking me in the chest. Beautiful in her ire.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I have no excuse. I am a bastard."

That seemed to throw her off.

"Yeah. You are, aren't you? Why is that? And seriously. Your stepmom? You should knock that shit off. It's creepy."

"But she derives so much pleasure from it."

"But…. Eww. She should have a kid or something. Better use of her time."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Then again, she could have a boy."

"Don't be gross."

"What? Like you weren't thinking it."

"I know."

"So what now?"

"What now? Well, I suppose I need a ride home. I sent Jasper on his way."

"Excuse me? Do you know how late it is?"

"Exactly. Class tomorrow. I need to get home, or Charlie'll have my head."

"You should've thought this whole sneaking into my bedroom thing through."

"True. It's just… you really pissed me off, Cullen. And for some reason, I needed to come and defend myself. Like, immediately."

"I think someone needs to work on her impulse control issues."

That made her snort.

"The way I hear it, you're one to talk."

"I never claimed to be perfect. I told you- I'm a bastard."

That made her grin; I wanted to kiss her.

"I'll give you a ride tomorrow morning. I ain't goin' nowhere."

And I leaned back, patting the pillow next to me.

The thought of waking up next to her beautiful face was incredibly appealing.

She raised her eyebrow at me. "Seriously? You think I'm going to sleep with you?"

"Well, you need to sleep, don't you?"

"Yes…"

"So sleep. I'm all tucked in; I can't get up now."

She considered that for a minute or so, then she shrugged and stood up.

I rolled my eyes and started to get up.

"Bella, really. You can take the bed. I'll sleep on my couch. But I wasn't kidding when I said I wasn't going out again. The alarms are set around the place, and it's a motherbitch trying to turn them off at night."

"Relax, Cullen. I just can't sleep in this," she said, pointing to her body. I raked my eyes over her, a lazy smile lighting up my face. This time, she rolled her eyes at me and walked over to where my school clothes were laid out. Challenging me with raised brows, she turned her back to me and slipped her blouse off; she wasn't wearing a fucking bra. I had noticed earlier- we had _all_ noticed- but watching the way she nonchalantly shrugged out of the thing and exposed her smooth back to me was just so fucking sexy.

She slipped my freshly pressed shirt onto her shoulders, her head leaning forward as she concentrated on buttoning up. She bent over and took her skirt off, slipping out of the shoes she wore. She grabbed my cotton boxers off the chair and put those on, too.

Nothing will ever be hotter than this girl in my clothes. Nothing.

Finally turning around, she defiantly met my slack-jawed face with a smile. "How do I look?"

I gulped and croaked out, "Fantastic."

"Thanks."

She hopped into my bed and leaned over me; I was suddenly assaulted with the scent of her lotion or soap or shampoo or just her own smell; sweet. Sweet Jesus. I had never smelled anything so…nice. She just smelled nice.

I could feel her pressing her breasts into me; they were practically in my face as she leaned forward and turned off the light. I could feel her settling in, snuggling under the covers. My sheets would smell like her in the morning.

"Good night, Edward Cullen," she whispered into the dark.

"Good night, Isabella Swan," I whispered right back.

"I really am sorry."

"I know. Don't ever fucking let it happen again."

"I won't," I whispered. And I wouldn't.

Couldn't.

This was just… confusing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**hmm...**

**so i'm gonna do it again**

**'cuz i'm shameless and i need the validation.**

**want emmett's poker music playlist?**

**just ask.**


	6. Chapter 6

**THIS ONE IS FOR ROB****  
****WHO WAS SPOTTED IN SUSPENDERS****  
****AND MENTIONED WU-TANG****  
****WE'RE JUST SAYIN...**

_**Twilight no es jandco's o wtvoc's.**_

**Sorry about the dearth of updates. Blame the twilighted original fic contest, which we're both finalists for, incidentally. Heh heh...**

**Bella**

Something smelled good.

Like soap and sleep and whiskey and warm and dammit, that was inviting because I was freaking freezing.

These sheets are too soft, too expensive, and I'm still freezing.

Before I opened one eye it occurred to me that my alarm never went off.

Then it occurred to me that I had Target sheets and they just aren't this soft.

Fuck.

I opened one eye.

Definitely still in Edward Cullen's bed.

I dared to turn my head and there he was, in all of his aggravating glory.

The fucker wasn't even using the covers, he was just…clinging to them. I briefly wondered how many members of the Forks Academy cheer squad woke up freezing ass next to Edward, who was most definitely not a cuddler.

His back was to me and he was sprawled at the very edge of the bed.

I watched his smooth back move ever-so-slightly with each breath he took and enjoyed the quiet time. I could just lay there and look at his shoulder blades and the nape of his neck; I quite liked him when he was asleep.

I imagined he wasn't an arrogant prick for a bit and then I imagined putting my hand on his back.

And then he rolled on to his back and ruined it all.

"Are you still here?" he asked, his voice gritty with sleep and he didn't even bother to open his eyes.

"Bella Swan doesn't do the walk of shame…even when there's nothing to be shameful about. You're giving me a ride."

"I can give you something to be ashamed of," he said, half heartedly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Clearly, he felt obligated to make a snarky comment, but it was just too early for him to put any conviction in it.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said, hopping out of the bed. "And really, if I was on the fence before, I've made up my mind now. Never gonna happen. You're a covers stealer."

"A what?"

I looked around his room for my shoes so I didn't have to look at him; I started rambling what I hoped was witty and urbane-sounding.

"A cover stealer. And the worst kind of cover stealer. You take them in the night, leaving your co-sleeper freezing, and then you don't even use them yourself—"

"If you wanted the covers—"

"It's more than that. I believe what we do in our unconscious speaks volumes. You steal covers, just so no one else can have any. And not only that, you do it to the unsuspecting. Obviously, you are egotistical, jealous, selfish and have huge coveting issues—"

"All true. And you may be on to something with true character coming out in unconscious because you said my name all night long…and I didn't even touch you."

"I talk in my sleep when I am particularly aggravated or disgusted, it's a common phenomenon and—"

"Bella?"

"What?" I asked, turning to face him, despite my burning face and trembling hands…I just had to see him.

He propped himself up on his elbows and kind of grinned, I couldn't be sure, I was too focused on his gorgeous mess of bed head, curling and standing everywhere.

"It's okay to be attracted to me."

I gaped.

"I'm not…attracted to you—"

"Of course you are. I just don't understand why you flaunt an attraction to Emmett and even to Jasper, but with me you just—"

"I don't—"

"Deny all you want, but you should know- I'm attracted to you, and I don't have a problem admitting it."

He just shocked the hell outta me.

Weren't high school guys supposed to play games, or hell, at least not be so blunt about this shit?

"Of course you're attracted to me, Edward. I'm new. You haven't gotten in my pants yet, and you can't say the same for the rest of the chicks at school—"

"No…I mean, I'm really attracted to you," he said, his voice low and grainy and slow.

I stopped breathing and his eyes slowly turned downcast to his lap.

I looked—then let out an audible gasp, because, dammit—it just came out.

His thick morning wood was straining against the thin fabric of his navy boxers.

This was—he was—it was huge, and begging me to just--

"I know, right?" Edward smirked, now staring at my awed expression.

I scoffed and turned back around to regain composure.

"My bathroom is to the left," he laughed, and I stumbled my way into his adjoining bathroom.

There was pale stone and marble everywhere, a Jacuzzi tub and a cove-style shower.

"You're spoiled, aren't you?" I called as I snatched his green toothbrush from its holder.

"Yes," he said, his voice way too close. "And put that down."

I stared blankly at him and grabbed the Crest.

"That's disgusting. Don't," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

I squeezed a big blue blob on the brush and turned the faucet on.

He raised an eyebrow.

I stared at him blankly and put the toothbrush in my mouth.

His jaw dropped and I continued to scrub away my morning film.

Edward closed his mouth and slid out of his shorts.

I didn't look this time. I just couldn't have "asphyxiation by Crest" written in my obituary.

I closed my eyes and heard a low laugh, and then the shower flicked on.

The room got steamy and fresh-smelling and it was safe to open my eyes and spit.

I rummaged through a few drawers and found some soap that was acceptable for a decent face wash.

"Uh," Edward said from the shower, "Mommy has some old Forks uniforms in her closet, three doors down on the left."

"No thanks. Somehow I doubt she wore underwear."

"You just used my toothbrush and now you worry about hygiene?"

"Yes."

I walked out and took the trip down to the closet; I was surprised when it wasn't her bedroom…it was an actual room that served as closet.

Shelf upon shelf of shoes.

A rack of all leather.

A rack of all lingerie.

A rack of aprons? What the hell?

Where were the jeans?

The T-shirts?

This home was unreal.

I grabbed a red belt and high-tailed it out of there and back in to Edward's room.

He was shrugging in to his Forks blazer, hair all tousled and wet and he smelled like shower and toothpaste.

"I smell you've gotten over your germ issue," I said.

He shrugged and assessed my lack of uniform.

"I send you for a skirt, and you come back with a belt?"

I smiled and wrapped it around my waist, tugged a bit at the top, and made a fabulous little dress out of his white-collared shirt while he watched with slight amusement.

"That is…sex."

"Thank you," I said.

"But you won't get away with it. They'll send you home before you walk through the doors."

He went to his closet and pulled out another blazer and a maroon tie.

"This jacket is from freshman year. It'll fit you better," he said, and tossed the blazer and tie over without looking at me.

Then he moved on to the important task of texting someone at this god-awful early hour.

I put the jacket on. It was still way too big, but whatever.

Now the hard part…the tie.

Charlie had been tying my ties; I had no idea how.

I went to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, then put the tie around my neck, and noticed the tip was monogrammed.

_EAC_

I wondered what the _A_ stood for.

Then I started to insult both myself and the tie as I twisted and knotted and nearly choked to death.

Hmmm.

Not right.

I untangled it and started again.

Still not right.

And again.

Fuck it, who needs a tie anyway?

"What the fuck are you doing in there, Swan?"

"Debating the necessity and function of ties."

Suddenly he was behind me.

I looked at his reflection in the mirror.

God. He was a head and a half taller than me and his shoulders looked so wide compared to mine—

His head cocked to the side and his jaw brushed the starched collar of his shirt and I had to use every ounce of self-control to not bend myself over the counter and beg him to—

"You need help."

"Um, well—"

His arms went over my shoulders and he grabbed on to the tie.

My eyes locked with his in the mirror and I felt his chest on my back and then the back of his hand brushed my chin and I shivered.

The corner of his mouth turned up and he kept our eye contact and started to talk very quietly the entire time just…locked on me.

"Always make sure the thicker end is longer than the skinnier end," he whispered, adjusting the tie. "Then, take the thick part, wrap it once," he continued, slowly doing the steps as he said them, "twice…"

"Uh…huh…" I kind of uttered.

His head dipped a bit, so his chin was grazing my temple and goose bumps spread over my skin, because he was so warm and his breath was hot in my hair and his fingers so close to my tongue—

"Pull it up through here…and then…through the loop…"

I stared at his reflection, amazed at the way he could just do this, without even looking—and amazed he could do anything at all, because I was positively incoherent.

He straightened my tie and let his palm run down it and I tensed when I felt his hand between my tits.

He laughed softly and took a step back.

My tie looked better than it did when Charlie did it.

"Thank you," I smiled and it wasn't just for the tie I was thanking him, it was for letting me see him just be…him.

"Anytime," he grinned, then smacked my ass hard and walked out of the bathroom, ending one charade and picking up the next again.

I sighed and followed him out.

Edward turned to say something but got cut off by Tanya's voice floating up the stairs.

"Mommy made pancakes," she called. "Come get breakfast!"

I opened my mouth to remind him of my disgust for the "mommy" talk.

"I'll be down in a second, Tanya," he called, then gave me a quick wink.

"Thank you," I said.

He gave a slight nod and we trailed downstairs to the kitchen.

On the buffet island was a plate with a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with blueberries for the eyes and nose.

I didn't know whether to laugh or gag and Edward sneered at me.

"Darling, you don't want to be late—" Tanya stopped short when she saw me, which was fine because I think we all needed a moment to gather our thoughts.

She was wearing an apron…and a piece of fabric that was supposed to be a bra. It couldn't have offered much support, but she didn't need it—those puppies were packed so hard with saline, they'd stand through the apocalypse.

Edward proceeded to offer me a fork.

I reached out to take it, because what the hell else could I do?

"Edward, you know Mommy doesn't approve of sleepovers on school nights," Tanya said, eyeing me.

I stabbed in to Mickey's ear.

"Bella's dad is out of town. You were babysitting," Edward said dryly before popping a blueberry in his mouth.

This appeased Tanya, which made me drop my fork onto the plate.

I didn't want a role in this game.

"Oh! Well then, can I get you some orange juice?" she asked me. "I wouldn't want your father to think—"

"I'm good. Thanks," I said, edging for the door. "We don't want to be late, Edward…so…"

"I'm eating," he said, shoving my discarded fork in his mouth.

I stepped forward and smiled and let my tits push into his side and I could actually hear him gulp down his bite of Mickey.

"Well," I said, fishing in the pocket of his blazer until I found his keys, "I'm leaving."

I dangled them in front of his face for half a second before bolting out of the kitchen of pseudo incestry.

I won.

We settled in his car and he turned the radio up loudly, too annoyed to speak to me, but not too annoyed to check out my legs on his leather passenger seat.

I watched his jaw tense as he watched me cross and uncross my legs.

Good.

When we pulled in to the parking lot, I turned the radio down.

"People are going to make assumptions," I said, gesturing to his shirt and monogrammed tie.

"Yep," he said, swinging the car smoothly into his choice spot.

No.

I couldn't let him let people think I slept with him.

Rosalie would catch wind of this and never believe I didn't spread 'em for Cullen.

"Well…you can't let them—"

"I most certainly can—"

"Wait. I thought we were, like, friends. Shouldn't you be protective of my honor?"

This sent him in to hysterics.

"Shut up! I'm serious."

"Look, I don't kiss and tell. People make assumptions. I don't feel the need to defend myself or anyone else—why do you care if people think we fuck?"

"Why do you want people to think we do?" I asked, suspicious—his reputation didn't need the boost.

"I don't talk about my sex life either way, so—"

"If you don't tell people it's not true…I'll tell everyone you were a horrible lay."

"Everyone who counts already knows I'm good at pussy. No dice."

"I'll say…I'll say you called out Jasper's name."

"I'll say you resemble a cross between chewed bubble gum and roast beef below the belt, and keep in mind, no one has seen you yet. And if I start that rumor, no one ever will," he shuddered.

"You! That is horrible—"

"I won't say a word about any of it, I already told you that—just don't test me, Bella."

I'd have to lie.

"Edward," I said, widening my eyes and lowering my chin, "I just…want to start fresh here, okay? It's hard enough going to a new school, and I don't want a filthy reputation. It's just so hard as it is, and I thought, you know, we were friends…"

I trailed off, hoping he could see some kind of earnest innocence.

He laughed.

"I have no idea what you're actually trying to pull—but you're full of shit," he said. "But I am intrigued by whatever you have going on—so fine. But when I tell people nothing happened, I'm going to tell them I didn't even try."

"Fine," I said, pleased.

"Good. Now get outta the car. People wanna see me."

I rolled my eyes and hopped out of the car, bookless and bagless.

The parking lot loitering came to a standstill and Edward and I were both surprised that all eyes weren't on him- they were on _me_.

Tyler Crowley passed by and snickered at Edward.

"What, bitch?" Edward asked.

"New girl kicked your ass right off the poker table last night, huh?"

I grinned proudly.

"Psssh…beginner's luck, and I went easy on her…during the game, anyway," Edward said, and tugged on the monogrammed tie around my neck.

He _didn't_.

He did.

He fucking just implied he fucked me…he was either the biggest asshole ever or had severe short-term memory issues.

"Nice," Tyler said, leering at me, and then stalked off to spread the news.

"Fuck. You," I growled.

"What? I- oh shit, Bella I didn't even—"

"Of course you didn't—you can only consider yourself—"

"It's not that big of a deal—"

"Go fuck step-mommy," I said, then stormed ahead…into a sea of smiles and cheers.

These people were _loving_ me.

Because I beat Edward at poker?

Because I rubbed up on Emmett?

Because I wormed my way into Cool-as- Ice Jasper's inner circle?

I didn't really care why. All I could do was hope my newfound popularity also came with credibility—because I was going to have to convince Rosalie that I didn't sleep with Edward.

Alice Brandon was at my side in a flash, Jasper trailing like a lovesick James Dean behind her.

He took one look at me and handed me the flask.

I gratefully accepted without a word.

"So…wow. People are just going crazy over you, Bella," Alice began. "Beating Edward at poker…well, it just doesn't happen—"

"Alice Brandon—let's cut the shit, shall we?" I asked in a pleasant tone, stopping in the middle of the parking lot.

Jasper raised his eyebrows in amusement and re-pocketed his flask.

"Okay," Alice shrugged.

"I know you are Queen Bee Rosalie's go-to gal and yet here you are, coming to me under the guise of blossoming friendship to fish for information for Rosalie. I genuinely like you Alice; I will be your friend, but know that I am well aware of your loyalty to Hale."

Alice considered this with narrowed eyes.

"Okay," she finally said with a smile. "I like you, too, Bella."

"Good," I said, and Alice linked her arm through mine.

"Love the amendments to the uniform," she said.

"I didn't sleep with Edward Cullen," I said. "Despite what you may hear today, I didn't…so you can go tell Rosalie that."

"Oh, I know you didn't sleep with Edward."

"How?"

"He doesn't have the Cullen Post-Coital Glow. Most people can't spot it, but he's been a dear friend of mine for years—I know post-coital Edward," she said, nodding across the lot in his general direction. "That's not him, that's more…dear God—that is brooding and distraught Edward! What did you do? I've only seen this particular Edward once before. When they changed the design of U.S. currency bills- he was really attached to the design- and God, he didn't come out of his house for days when they stopped circulating the older—"

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with me," I said, cutting her off.

"Hmm…" Alice mused, trudging forward, one armed linked with mine, the other with Jasper's. "On to bigger and better things. Daddy got me backstage passes for the next Foo show in Seattle—"

A groan escaped Jasper's throat and my heart broke a little for him, though I couldn't really quite figure out what a guy like Jasper saw in this ball of oblivious energy.

"What's the matter, Jas?" she asked.

"Nothing. I just feel a little sick suddenly."

"Lay off the breakfast booze," Alice said. "Anyway, me, Rose, Jasper, Emmett and Edward are all in. You should come, Bella. I have an extra pass, and you're one of us now."

One of us now.

Oh God.

I didn't want to be impolite to my only hope of infiltrating Rosalie's psychotic mind.

"Uh, when is it?"

"The thirteenth," Alice and Jasper said in unison.

Alice's voice was dreamy and excited; Jasper sounded like he had just announced his execution date.

"I can't on the thirteenth," I said, happy to have a valid excuse. "It's my birthday."

Alice stopped dead in her tracks like I had just announced I had syphilis.

Jasper and I both jerked to a stop as she cemented herself, eyes wide.

"What?" I asked.

"If you're one of us, you get the honor of me throwing your birthday party…and Bella, I throw the _best_ parties—"

"But your concert—"

"I will skip the concert for this. Taylor will be back—"

"Oh, Alice, I don't know—"

"You won't have to do a thing. Just show up and I promise you 200 of Forks' Elite will be there. This shit will rival that MTV show."

"I don't really do birthday parties," I said, looking to Jasper for help.

He was staring at me with pleading, desperate eyes.

"Fine, okay. Birthday party," I said.

Alice kissed my cheek, whipped out a Blackberry, and was gone.

"Why don't you just bed the girl and get it over with?" I asked Jasper as soon as she was out of ear shot.

"Not your business, Swan."

"Um, I just committed myself to a birthday party at which I won't know half the guests, and the other half I don't even like…all for your benefit. It is my business."

"Thank you for that. Her parties are horrendously pretentious and debauchery-ridden," Jasper laughed at me. "And I don't want to just bed Brandon…I want…more."

"What are you gonna do? Just run drummer-cock-interference for the rest of your life? Won't work, Jasper. Make a move."

"Let's talk about your night instead, high roller."

"Yes, let's."

"You're a hustler."

"I am."

"I think I might be falling for you, Swan," Jasper said, putting his arm around me and eyeing Edward, who was getting pawed by Jessica Stanley near his Volvo.

"Are we still playing the Piss Edward Off Game?" I asked, leaning in to him.

"Always. It's a never-ending battle of calculated moves and wit."

"Just so you know, he's got an iPod full of Chili Peppers songs in his pocket. Did Alice have a tryst with Chad Smith?"

"Fuck. Yes. Kiss my cheek; I want the first assault of the day."

I complied when I was sure Edward was watching and let Jasper lead me into the school.

Throughout the morning I was revered for my poker skills and I was glared at by ghosts of Edward's Past Fucks.

I debated whether or not to Sharpie "I didn't do Edward" on my forehead.

I passed him four times in the hallway.

The first time he looked at me with sad, apologetic eyes.

The second time he yanked on my elbow and I jerked away.

The third time he flipped me off.

The fourth time he mouthed "sorry" and I pretended not to see him.

Finally lunch rolled around and I found myself at a table sandwiched between Jasper and Emmett with Alice and Rosalie on the opposite side of us.

Rosalie looked down at her Gucci watch and smiled up at me.

"Matter. Of. Time," she mouthed.

I sneered and turned my attention back to Jasper and Emmett while Alice prattled about party plans.

"What's this about, Big Pimpin'?" Emmett asked, tugging on my tie. "I thought we had something."

"I didn't touch Edward," I said, looking at Rosalie while answering Emmett.

"Oh, I don't care if you're a playa, Babygirl," Emmett said, and before I knew what he was doing, he shifted me onto his lap. "Just don't get yourself owned."

"I won't," I smiled down at him.

"Looks like you already did," Jasper said, fiddling with the hem of the Edward shirt I was donning.

"Please. I stole his clothes, won his money and pilfered a ride to school. I think it's Cullen who got owned," I smirked.

"Damn…you are—"

Emmett got cut off because just then, Edward was at our table, glaring at the three of us.

"Dude, we were just talking about you," Emmett said.

"Yeah, I caught that," Edward said. "I got played, owned, whatever—listen, Bella, I really want to talk to you—"

I noticed Rosalie's eyes darting between Edward and I with a morbid fascination- with the wide, thrilled eyes of a fucking master orchestrator.

She was getting off on this.

I had a sick feeling that more was at stake than just the pissing match between Rosalie and I.

"Don't you have another rumor to start?" I asked, not looking at him.

"Don't act like a fucking baby. Talk to me," he said, getting irritated.

"No."

Then he grabbed my wrist and I was on my feet.

"Hey," he said, his voice only slightly raised, but the entire cafeteria stilled and all eyes were on us.

My heart started to pound and everyone stared and I was positively frightened—I had no clue what he was about to do.

"Bella Swan schooled me in poker last night. I tried my damnedest to win that game, but I didn't. Bella won my money—and not even with a stroke of luck—she won because she's that good."

The cafeteria broke out in whispers and the buzz got louder until it was full-on cheering.

"I'm not done," Edward said and I gulped. "She slept at my house. She's wearing my clothes and I drove her to school, which is all way more than any other chick at this school has ever gotten from me…and she didn't even put out."

I stood there in a numb daze trying to figure out what the hell he was up to.

Was he so determined to get in my skirt that he was offering himself up for public humiliation…in front of the people who worshipped him? For me…a girl he barely knew?

No.

Edward Cullen definitely had more motive than just me…as did Rosalie.

But still…he was going balls-out in front of the school to give me some integrity. So for right now, I decided to just be in this moment with him. Because it felt too good not to.

I slid my wrist from his grip until we were palm to palm, and just like that, I was holding his hand.

"So, everyone can shut the hell up about my big loss and where I put my dick last night. I haven't slept with Bella," he said, then looked down at me with a devious, crooked grin. "Yet."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**so remember how bella and emmett were mackin' last chapter?**

**well, we've decided that it needs to be an outtake. in emmett's POV. Heh heh**

**ALL BECAUSE WE LOVE QJMOM**

**and we want her to be happy. we just do.**

**however.... if you want it.... yer gonna need to review. It's not getting posted.**


	7. Chapter 7

**look, an update! and i wrote this with my world burning around me, BBs!**

**that's right. wtvoc lives right near the ragin' orange county wildfires. MY HIGH SCHOOL GYM BURNED DOWN**

**AND FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO READ SATURDAY SCHOOL.... IT'S WHAT I PICTURED WHEN I WROTE THAT EDWARD/MOTORCYCLE GYM SCENE**

**SO I'M FAILING A LITTLE ABOUT IT**

**anyways... this one goes out to bethaboo and angel, 'cuz i didn't include you in my shout-outs last week.**

**and, as always, to rob.**

**HAPPY REX MANNING DAY**

_not ours._

**Edward**

Monday rolled around without much news on the Swan front. Rosalie threw her annual Back-to-School Bash, but I just couldn't be fucking bothered. Mommy wanted to go shopping in LA, so I went with her. She always needs someone to carry her bags around when she goes on these trips, and I really did miss seeing my father, so off we went to the sunshine. I mean, don't get me wrong; I preferred the doom and gloom of Forks' perpetual clouds, but every once in a while, a guy just needs to go somewhere that's sunny. Especially since sunshine means girls wearing less clothing.

I was getting ready for school when I heard the door open. Jasper strolled in wearing his stupid fedora.

"Gimme your wallet chain, bitch." He leaned against the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and his tie all askew. Fuck him for looking good when he was being a condescending asshole. I _owned_ that look.

"Wallet chain? The one from junior high that we choked Emmett with?" I chuckled at the memory. I couldn't quite remember why we had choked him, but I'm sure we had our reasons. Probably over a girl.

"The very one. In your closet, I presume?" He sauntered over to my walk-in and started riffling through a drawer. I finished getting ready and it occurred to me while he was in there, searching for his new look of the week, that Jasper had probably seen a lot of Bella this past weekend. Today should be interesting; especially if Bella was now the It Girl at school. I was rather looking forward to seeing her again. She had beaten me at My Game and still, I was interested. Or maybe that's why I was interested, I wasn't sure. I hadn't thought of her much when I was down in California except for fleeting comparisons to the chicks that had shoved their numbers at me, but really. The overly tanned bitches of LA had nothing on my girls in Forks. I preferred my women to have creamy thighs, thank you. Fake tanned skin is just so… pedestrian.

"So how was the Back-to-School Bash?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager for details. Unfortunately, Jasper knew me all too well. He popped his head around the door jamb, smirking at me as he pulled out the overly long chain and started attaching it to his back belt loop.

"I wouldn't know; I didn't go. I hung out with La Bella all weekend," he said, smiling in triumph as my face fell ever-so-slightly. Hmm. So my suspicions were confirmed. Bastard. He was making my life difficult. I wonder if he suspected something about the Challenge. Jasper really is an astute fellow, and he was particularly in tune to the things that interested him the most. And it would appear that he was interested in the new girl.

Either that, or he was just trying to fuck with me. At any rate- it was working. I decided to change the subject lest he get suspicious, if he wasn't already.

"You're here early for breakfast, aren't you?" I asked, hoping to deflect him from more Bella-related inquiries. He snapped the chain to his wallet and went over to the tri-fold mirror to inspect his reflection, saying over his shoulder, "oh, I'm only here to get the chain. I'm on my way to get Bella."

Why, oh why, did this bother me so much?

"Negative, good man. First off, Mommy won't like it if you're here and don't eat. Secondly, I'm picking Bella up. I need to get my tie back." Like I didn't have dozens of them hanging in my closet. A thin excuse, indeed.

"Nice try, Cullen. She's probably expecting me. She refuses to get her broken-ass hot mess of a truck fixed and needs a ride. From me." He was finally satisfied with the placement of his chain, and he straightened the waist of his pants, making sure the enormous belt buckle he had on was flashing in all the right ways. Ostentatious motherfucker.

"Interesting. You know I do love a challenge. The real question," I said, running my fingers through my hair as I finished getting ready, "is whether your own hot mess of a vehicle can beat the quiet purr of a Cadillac DeVille on the way to Casa de Swan."

"You're on. Breakfast. Bella. In that order."

And with that, he ran his ass out of my room. Good thing I've got great reflexes.

"Edward! Jasper! Breakfast!" Tanya's melodic sex purr came floating up the stairs as we elbowed each other on the way down, both grinning like fools as we rushed into the kitchen. We stopped short, Jasper slightly skidding as he got to the counter. Wolfing our pancakes like two guys on death row eating their last meal, we eyed each other across the kitchen, he leaning on the island, me trying desperately to look unconcerned that we were neck-and-neck in the eating contest.

We finished our pancakes at exactly the same moment, and Tanya had seemed to guess that something was at stake here since she silently slid each of us a tall glass of milk, which we raised simultaneously to our mouths and started guzzling. The cold against my teeth was giving me an instant brain freeze, but I grimaced and kept on gulping. I could feel lines of milk coming out of the sides of my mouth and I simply didn't give a fuck; I had lost poker. I would _not_ fucking lose this, too.

We both clunked our glasses down at the same moment, and I saw Jasper had a huge milk mustache to my milk Fu Manchu. Both using our blue uniform sleeves to swipe at our mouths, for one split second we high-nooned it with the gazes before taking off running. Jasper made for the front door, me out the back heading toward the garage. The good thing is that he would have to wait for the gate to open to get out, while I could escape out the back entrance through my garage. Sprinting to the Caddy, I hastily tossed my blazer in the back as I shoved my keys in, smirking with satisfaction at the gentle purr of tens of thousands of dollars worth of American engineering at its best. I floored it, keeping my eyes peeled for Jasper. I saw with dismay that he was coming up on me; damn him and that 454 cubic-inch engine he had installed over the summer.

I actually had a blast drag racing Jasper down the dusty road leading back into town. Luckily for us the streets were empty, because I didn't want to have to take any sort of responsibility if innocent pedestrians were injured in our rush to beat the ever-living crap out of each other in our haste to get to Bella's place first.

Naturally, it wouldn't have mattered.

Emmett beat the both of us. He was outside, leaning against the side of his Range Rover and finishing up a smoke.

Scowling, I hopped out of the car and Jasper was doing the same; we each emulated Emmett, leaning up against our respective car doors with arms crossed; I loosened my tie a bit and noted that Jasper had taken his uniform shirt off and was now standing there in a wifebeater, despite the cold. He tipped his fedora brim back with his middle finger and refused to make eye contact with us.

We didn't greet Emmett or acknowledge each other. This was to be a test. A test of who she would choose to be her chaffeur.

All eyes were trained on the door as Jasper leaned in and honked; the jackass had installed "Dixie" as his horn. Real classy, white trash wannabe.

Bella made us wait five minutes before coming out onto the porch. Her eyes were wide and she had a piece of toast to her mouth, her jaw dropping open and schoolbag in danger of falling off her shoulder. My eyes raked up and down her form; I'd seen every possible permutation of suggestive ways to wear our school uniform, and I had never been pleasantly surprised until now. The girls of Forks Academy had the same light-blue button-down, the feminine version; same blazer, same tie. There was a vest option, but no one wore that shit except Newton. Charcoal grey skirt or slacks, but what girl's going to wear pants? We could wear whatever shoes we wanted, only the girls were supposed to wear either knee-highs or tights. For modesty, I suppose. God forbid we show too much skin.

So last Friday, Bella broke serious protocol by not wearing pants. Or a skirt. And she didn't even fucking get into trouble, to the best of my knowledge. Bad on administration for giving her carte blanche to do what she wanted, because today? Eff me.

Oh, sure. She had on the correct uniform. She chose to wear the vest, but it seemed to be too small. Putting on the appearance that she was popping out of it. She didn't even button up her shirt all the way; it was hanging out the bottom of the vest haphazardly, like she couldn't be bothered to fix it. Which she probably wasn't. And bless her, but her tie (actually, _my_ tie; she never returned it) was tied, only it wasn't fixed in the collar. Just hanging dead center down her chest, resting between her tits that I could sort of see over the V of the suddenly sexy sweater vest. The collar of the shirt was splayed open and out. Fuck, man.

But that's not why she looked like sex.

She was wearing burgundy-colored Doc Martens. All the way up to her knees. Mottled and well-worn in. Militant, yet fucking hot. A slow grin crept up my face as I took her in. She was going to cause a ruckus at school today with this get-up. I flicked away a fleeting feeling of annoyance that she was going to be the new Jasper- by the end of the week, most girls would be wearing old Docs that they'd have to order off of eBay to make sure that they had the authentic worn-in look. And I was pretty sure there'd be a huge run on ugly and too-small sweater vests in the weeks to come.

I noticed that I wasn't the only one appreciating Bella's look as we all had to lean forward and adjust ourselves a bit. Bella simply stood there, taking us in; it must've been kind of funny seeing the three hottest guys in Forks leaning up against their vehicles, arms crossed in taunting challenge. _Pick me. Pick me. Pick me_.

"Can I help you boys with something?" she called out, finally having gathered her wits as she munched on her toast. She recovered fairly quickly, lithely hopping down the steps and out onto the lawn. She strode over and stopped a few feet away from the curb, making eye contact with Jasper and then Emmett before finally meeting my gaze. I half-smiled at her, trying to make my eyes sparkle. I would be pissed if she didn't get in my damned car.

"Maybe I should ask the Chief for a ride," she said, smiling saucily and turning around. None of us moved. She took a few steps and then swung back around, that Poker Hustler smile gracing her lips and face.

"No, wait. I like this. I like it _way_ too much. You boys are making this too easy. I think it's time to Roshambo."

"Roshambo." Emmett said it like he had never heard it. Like we had never played rock-paper-scissors for a chick before. This was a game that none of us were ever clear winners for, so I had no idea what the outcome would be. I would have to hope that luck was on my side.

Jasper pushed off of his hunk of junk with both arms and sauntered over toward Emmett, who was standing up straight with a smile. Grimacing, I hesitated. Sure, it was fun to gamble over girls. But not Bella. Something told me she wasn't going to be amused by this display, even though she was smiling at us with a wickedly benevolent grin, like she was humoring us silly boys on this fine, sunny Forks morning.

"Hey, Bells, are you ready-" Chief Swan came out of the house in full uniform and stopped dead when he was greeted with the sight before him. Three rich, ridiculously good-looking boys in his front yard with his hot daughter looking on. She didn't even acknowledge his presence; she simply arched one saucy little eyebrow at us and smirked. The Chief turned red and looked like he was going to draw his sidearm for one moment; we had all been on the receiving end of that face before, and we were all smiling in anticipation. He had no actual reason to be pissed at any of us this time, unless wanting to fuck a guy's daughter is a crime. It probably should be.

"Whoops. Looks like you boys will have to fight amongst yourselves over who gets to drive my tight ass home," she said, making eye contact with each of us. I grinned appreciatively as she turned around and stomped over to her dad, who was giving each of us a warning look; as she headed over to his cruiser, he gave us the V-fingers-to-the-eye "I'm watching you" meaningful look, and when he turned around to get in the car, we all doubled over in silent laughter.

"Gentlemen. The game is afoot." Jasper flipped around and hopped into his car Dukes-style, neatly making it in without opening the door. I hated that shit. Sighing, I got into my own car and headed to school, alternating my scowl at losing out on the opportunity to show my friends up with a delighted grin at her _deviousness_; Bella always managed to be just one half-step ahead of us, and I really did love that.

The three of us parked in our usual spots and I got out, hopping up onto the top of Jasper's trunk. Laying against the back window, I closed my eyes and let the drizzle of the morning cover my face and hair. I could hear Jasper thrumming along to his speed metal; Motorhead, I think. I recognized it from our junior high era; he was really into reliving the good ole days today. First my wallet chain, then "Ace of Spades". He must have poker on the mind. And Bella. I banged on the window with my fist. Knock that shit off.

Bella.

I saw the cruiser roar up the school parking lot; the Chief dropped her off right at the curb, but she was dragged back over to our cars by Alice since we had about fifteen minutes until the bell rang. As the two girls came trotting up, Jasper changed it to that "Sex on Fire" song that we all liked so much. Alice saw Rosalie pull up and made a beeline for the Beamer; Bella hopped up on the GTO and slid up next to me so that we were both lying across the back. Her skirt fanned out a bit, grazing my leg; I wished I could feel it on my skin. She crossed her hands across her chest, and I was temporarily mesmerized by the play of the splayed-open shirt collar and vest across her tits; I angled my head so that my cheek was resting on the top of her parted hair. I felt her stiffen slightly beneath me for a millisecond, but she recovered quickly. Ah, so I do have an effect on her. Not my intention, but good to know; I was merely trying to see down her shirt better. Good rack, too.

She leaned her head so it was now on my shoulder. Aww. We must've looked cute. How nice.

"How was your weekend?" she said, her voice low and tickling in my ear. Really? I can't remember the last time a girl started a normal conversation with me. What is her deal?

"Flew to LA to carry bags for Mommy. Got a lecture from my Father about keeping my grades up and my dick covered. Business as usual." I was laughing, and her chuckles sort of fueled my fire. I actually pried my gaze away from her opened top so that I could see her lips curving up in that devious little smile of hers. She really is beautiful; smokin' hot, but beautiful, too.

"So what the fuck was that all about this morning?" she asked, propping up on both elbows and looking at me like I had fucked her mother or something.

"What? It had been two days since I'd seen you. Sue me. I had no clue those jerks were going to be there, too," I huffed, annoyed that she had triumphed over our attempted display of manliness. But then I thought better of it; it really _was_ pretty funny.

"How'd the Chief take it? He's not necessarily my biggest fan."

"He handed me a box of Magnums."

"Magnums? How'd he guess correctly?"

"Not really, ass. Although I suppose he should. The Chief and I aren't exactly Gal Pals, Cullen. He simply told me to be careful and that he had stories on the three of you that would make my uterus recede deep into my pelvic floor."

"You know, I always felt like the denizens of Forks don't give the Chief enough credit. He's quite astute."

"Are you trying to tell me to stay away from you, then?"

"Would I show up at your doorstep and play paper-rock-scissors for the honor of driving your fine ass to school if I wanted you to stay away?"

"To maintain your image, you would."

"Touche."

"So is that it, then? You want first crack at the new pussy so you can move on with life?"

Her eyebrow was raised and she was leaning toward me. I couldn't read her expression, which was quite frustrating. She was either dead serious or seriously fucking with me. And I wasn't sure which I preferred.

I opened my mouth to respond when Jasper interrupted, climbing out of the car. He's such a tool sometimes. Ruining my moment. He still hadn't put his uniform on, and Bella sat up and swung her legs around, sitting up straight. He walked over to her side of the trunk in his wifebeater and big fucking Confederate flag belt buckle, his shirt draped across his shoulders and tie lazing around his neck. I could hear the singing clink of the wallet chain whipping around his knees, and I rolled my eyes at him. Always the badass.

"Hey, you," he drawled, coming to stand right in front of Bella, practically between her slightly parted knees. I couldn't see her expression, which was driving me crazy. Did she act differently for Jasper than she did with me? Or with Emmett? Or any of the other countless dicks desperate to see her naked?

She reached up and started to button up Jasper's shirt. I would've thought the whole thing was depressingly intimate if I hadn't noticed the slightly bemused shock in his face. So they _didn't_ do anything this weekend. Good. I noticed with amusement and annoyance that she tied his tie up, too. Hey, at least I was a good teacher, right?

We all walked to class together, Rosalie and Emmett trailing as Alice and Bella walked on ahead of me and Jasper. It was a good view, and I wasn't complaining that the little Drummer Fucker was hogging my Bella time. I'd see her in class later.

That afternoon, Banner made an announcement that was both fantastic and utterly irritating.

"Today, dear students, is the day that Forks Academy returns to a tradition that was started by many of your grandparents long ago. We had to let it rest for a few years due to all of the rampant cheating, but I'm happy to say it's back with a vengeance. I have three words for you: Physics. Boat. Race."

Everyone groaned, except Bella, who probably didn't realize it was actually her grandparents who had started it nor even heard of it. I grinned and winked at Banner; I _owned_ him. He owed his job to my father. I tilted my head toward Bella, who was seated next to some plain, nameless snatch from our class. Banner saw my significant look and gave me a slight nod in response.

He passed out a packet of information and began to speak. "The rules are simple. I'm going to pair you up. Each pair must build a water-worthy vessel using only the materials I give you and some paint. You will pick one of the pair to be the passenger in the vessel, which must make it across the pool with the person's head still above water. Materials are based on the person's height and weight. And I will pick your partners, so play nice, children." He started randomly calling out names and pointing, some people groaning and some squee-ing in delight. When he got to me, he barely acknowledged either of us or the loud "damn"s as he blithely said, "Cullen, Swan."

I didn't even turn and look at her. It didn't matter. I had a reason to drive her home. Suck it, Whitlock. And you, too, McCarty.

After school ended, I saw her sitting on a low brick wall, headphones in her ears and her hair swaying slightly with what I assumed was a musical trance. I came up behind her, looming as I leaned over. I could smell the faint scent of whatever it was she washed her hair with. Girls always smell so _pleasant_.

Coming right up to her ear, I was going to pop out her ear bud and say something snarky, but instead I breathed a stream of warm air right under her ear lobe.

She jumped and fell backward, but I was so close she didn't even lose her balance. While holding onto her shoulders and laughing heartily, she looked up at me, fury and sex flashing in her dark brown eyes.

"Fuck, Edward. You scared the crap out of me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. I was just going to- holy shit. Is that a Discman? Haven't you ever heard of iPods?"

"Bite me. I'm stuck on analog. Hey, that reminds me. You're giving me a ride home, right? Also, I'm assuming I'm the one going in the boat?"

"Slow down there, with your thoughts. Yes, I'll give you a ride. And yes on the boating. Like I'd miss out on the chance to get my own personal wet t-shirt contest when we practice your navigation skills."

"So long's you call me Cap'n while you're ogling. Okay, listen, you're taking me downtown for like, fifteen minutes. I noticed something this morning and I must investigate."

"Aye aye, ma Capitaine."

Curious, I led her to my car and ignored the ogling of the student body filtering out to the parking lot. Jasper had already left; he probably heard about the boat race and left, knowing that I'd step in on that shit.

We drove to Forks' small downtown area, Bella chattering about life in Phoenix as I asked question after question. For lack of anything better to do, really. I was so lost in her story about getting caught skinny dipping in her former principal's pool that it startled the crap out of me when her hand flew out and smacked me in the chest.

"There! Stop! That's where I wanna go," she said, excited and sounding like a little kid on Christmas morning. I had barely pulled into a parking spot when she hopped out and dashed across the street, headed for the only place in Forks that I liked to spend any time.

Black Hole Records. I walked in after her, letting the wonderful, musty smell of vintage vinyl wash over me.

"Hey, Cullen. Whaddya lookin' for today?"

"Not for me, sir. I'm here strictly following that one around." I pointed at Bella, who had skipped over to a specific section and was flipping through the records, a slight smile dancing on her face.

"Lovely. Must be the new chick, eh?" He leered at her. I wanted to punch him. Dirty old fucker.

"Indeed." I made my way over to Bella, who was now frowning.

"What're you looking for?"

"Tom Waits' first. The only glaring hole in my collection. Well, that and some jackass stole my Foghat, but that's nowhere near as drastic as the Waits situation."

"Why don't you check eBay?"

She clucked her tongue at me. "Edward. Please. There are rules." And she moved down a few aisles, heading toward some old dancehall records.

"Rules. Explain." I folded my arms and leaned against the grimy window, eyeing her up and down as she nonchalantly maneuvered the aisles of my hole in the wall shop. Oddly, in her sexy uniform and docs and grungy old Jansport, she looked like she belonged in a place like this. Eccentric. A little dirty. And utterly interesting to peruse and flip through.

"Easy. eBay's cheating, for one. Must be found either at an Estate Sale, Swap Meet, or record store. Has to be less than ten bucks. And no writing. I hate when I get a pristine cover only to have some bitch's name in ballpoint underneath the _Disraeli Gears_."

"You're a record snob." She snorted.

"And you are a stuck-up bitch. But that's neither here nor there. Let's go see about our boat, hmm?" And with that, she took my arm and tucked her hand into my elbow, looking expectantly at me as I led her out the door.

I saw Tanya had made snacks again as I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter. Bella raised her eyebrows at the triangles of grilled cheese with the crusts cut off, but she still picked one up and took a big bite out of it. I grinned and grabbed her hand.

"Come on, I wanna show you something."

"Edward, I'm not interested in seeing your-"

"Not that. Come on. Don't you trust me?" I held my hand out to her, palm up. She looked skeptical, but then she smiled warmly at me and said, "Oddly, yeah. I do." Then she put her warm hand in mine and followed me upstairs.

I took her to my room but veered left to a small door that was slightly hidden. I didn't ever let anyone back there. My sanctuary. But I somehow knew that Bella would appreciate it.

"Whoa," she uttered, my arm tugging as she stopped short behind me.

She was probably reacting to the Wall. Of records. Floor to ceiling. This was supposed to be a study, but I had converted the library shelves to accommodate my massive vinyl collection. Smirking, I dropped her hand and made my way to the piano.

"A music room," she murmured, her voice low and slightly purring. Turned on? Fuck, I hoped so. I know I was. Unbidden but not unwelcome images of eating her out on my piano popped into my head, and I swiveled around on the bench and leaned against the keys, the light clinking of notes echoing up the vaulted ceiling as I tried to will my stiffie away. Settle down, Cullen Jr. We're not quite there yet.

She was standing there, looking all for the world like a kid in a candy store. Her head up, lower lip sticking out slightly as she ogled row upon row of my Collection. Her eyes wandered around to the desk covered with sheet music and pencils and finally came around to the piano before settling on me.

"Ooh, I've always wanted to do this," she said and came over to where I was sitting. I scooted over and held out my hand, which she clasped. But instead of sitting next to me, she hiked up her skirt and took a step up onto the bench.

Now, I should have been horrified. Her big, clunky sex Docs were going to leave footprints on the smooth veneer of the shiny black bench. And then she was stepping on top of my piano. But hell, how could I be irritated when I could clearly see up her skirt? Emmett was right. Boy shorts. Hundred percent cotton.

She twirled and shimmied and eventually lay down on the piano, resting so that her hair was splayed out across the keyboard. I hadn't shifted from my position of leaning with my elbows on the keys, so we just stayed like that, discussing life, boats, rich bitches and Mommy.

I was surprised when I got a text about three hours later. Mommy warning me it was dinnertime. Time flies.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The week passed as expected. Bella was definitely the new It Girl, and Rosalie was taking it in stride. I had even noticed the two of them have an almost civil exchange in-between classes, so I took it that Rose was reconciled to the new girl's popularity at this point. Alice was certainly enjoying Bella, much to J's annoyance. He should be grateful that her birthday was the excuse he needed to get out of the Foo Fighters concert this Friday.

I had decided to upgrade Bella's music device. She had been coming over every day after school so we could discuss our Boat, even though we hadn't actually gotten around to planning anything concrete yet. It wasn't due for a while; it could wait. We were too busy poring over my records, comparing tastes. I was surprised that she had heard of some of the stuff I had, and her eyes had nearly dropped out of her head when she saw my digital music collection. She had some holes in her musical education that I was all too glad to fill. Today I was planning on giving her a Touch, filled with very specific songs that I had spent all last night putting together into a playlist. I even wrapped it up all nice- or should I say, I had some chick wrap it up for me.

"That's a nice little package you've got there," Tanya said as I sat down for breakfast. Jasper was picking Bella up today, so I was in no real rush, just irritated that it wasn't my turn. I did, however, get dibs on after school duties. At least until the boat was done.

"It's for Bella. Today's her birthday," I mumbled, realizing half a second too late that I should've kept my fucking mouth shut.

"Oh, your girlfriend's birthday? How sweet." Her tone was all acid and crisp disapproval.

"She's not my girlfriend. Just a girl. Don't be rude, Mommy." Hearing her "name" seemed to calm her ire, and she slid my plate of waffles under me, leaning forward (and showing her cleavage) as she tucked a linen napkin onto my lap.

"Eat up. Growing boys need their carbohydrates."

"And you finish up that sausage. Growing girls need their protein."

She took a big bite of a link and chewed on it thoughtfully, swallowing before answering me.

"Speaking of girls needing protein, I think you should have your girlfriend over for dinner tonight. It's time we all sat down and had a nice, formal dinner. What better way for your girlfriend to meet your father than a nice, intimate birthday dinner?" Tanya was smiling serenely; I honestly think she believed this to be a good idea.

"Mommy, no. Wait, the Doctor's coming home?" Despite my unease at the idea of Bella sitting at the same dinner table as my stepmother, I was glad that Carlisle would be home. The weekend fuckfest on his return trips home generally meant Tanya was less up on my shit, and I'd be able to focus on Bella, our Boat, and the Bet.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Of course she's coming over. I heard about Alice's party; just be here by six. I'll make sure you guys are out of here in time for the festivities. I wouldn't want my little Eddie to miss out on his girlfriend's celebration." She whisked away my plate before I was done, and I could tell that she was put out by the Bella situation, which was honestly reason enough to continue with it. But hell, I was having fun. Bella was a good time. I really did enjoy having her around.

And I'd enjoy it more thoroughly once I could fuck her and get her out of my system.

I suppose I'd better warn her that she had two parties to go to tonight. And she wasn't one for surprises.

Grinning, I tightened my tie and shrugged into my blazer. This was going to be one fun night, that's for sure.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**ooh bella birthday dinner. HEY JANDCO**

**GIT TO WRITIN' **

**I WANNA READ IT**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: To Katelyn…because I promised this forever. I love ya. Enjoy. **

This is Jandco does Bella. Heh.

Okay, this is ridiculously long, so bear with me.

Wtvoc says: that's what he said.

**Bella**

Friday morning.

My birthday.

The night of my ever-dreaded birthday party.

It wasn't that I disliked a good party, I can throw 'em back as good as the douches at the Academy.

It was more the fact that Alice was throwing a grand bash for, well, people I don't even want to know.

And I'm no fool, I've seen _Jawbreaker_-- I'm aware of the not-so-passive, yet very aggressive, violent pranks- disguised-as-sisterhood –bonding these inner circle bitches pull on each other on their birthdays…

And even if I didn't end up in a trunk with dime store candy lodged in my throat, at the very least I could expect a locker decorated in pink glitter. I wasn't up for it today.

My inner turmoil was already at a boiling point.

Rosalie Hale was going to be right.

I thought it was a slight possibility the first time I saw Edward, lazy and drunk on scotch, being an arrogant, careless son of a bitch.

I thought it was more than a slight possibility when he whispered in my ear that day in History.

I was fairly certain I'd cave when he taught me how to tie my tie the morning after I slept in his bed, cold and untouched.

I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt when he showed me his music collection and he absently played notes on his piano while he spoke quietly, without any pretenses.

Rosalie Hale was going to be right.

I was most definitely going to sleep with Edward Cullen.

Dammit.

So, when Charlie passed by my door that morning and called out he was leaving for work, I didn't get out of bed like I normally would have.

I put the pillow over my head and tried not to think of the way Edward smelled.

Or the way his fingers looked on the piano keys.

Or the way he regarded his original Tom Waits vinyl.

Or the way his hair was a constant mass of thick, disarrayed sex.

Two hours later I was in bed still contemplating Edward's hair and debating whether or not to make myself get up and pee when my cell rang.

My hand fumbled in the tangled sheets and finally made contact with the phone.

Jasper.

"What? Did you get tangled up in the wallet chain?" I asked, grinning.

"Wallet chains are king, La Bella. Know this."

"Right. Shouldn't you be studying Brandon's tits or something? Why are you harassing me at home on a school day?"

"Why are you not at school on a school day?"

"Do you miss me?"

"It's been hell," he said dryly. "You could have called. It was my morning to pick you up. I waited for an extra thirty seconds and everything."

"Thirty whole seconds?"

"Whitlock waits on no one. Not even you, Swan."

"I'll keep that filed—but you've been waiting on Brandon for years now—"

"Which brings us to the point of this mid-morning conference. She decorated your locker. She made fat-free, sugar-free, low-carb cupcakes. She's all sad—"

"Are you calling me because your unrequited love interest is disappointed by my absence? Look, Jasper, I like Alice, but I'm not her new toy—"

"Cut it. I'm calling because if you don't show up, I'm going to be forced to eat fucking cardboard in pink icing so she doesn't cry-- I'm not whipped, but I ain't about to have her crying in her own pathetic cupcakes."

"I'm going to the party. That'll have to do, Jasper."

"Fine."

I half sat up in my bed and blew some hair from my narrowed eyes.

He shouldn't have given in that easy.

"Fine?"

"Fine. Cullen's on his way. I'd come myself, but someone has to stop Alice from hanging your happy birthday banner. Be ready. Oh, and wear those bad smart-girl Docs—that shit's a turn on."

"Jasper—"

The bastard hung up on me.

I gaped at my phone for about half a second before it occurred to me that Edward would probably be here in the next ten minutes.

Okay…options.

One. Stay in bed and let Edward come in and find me and let the inevitable happen…I like this one.

Two. Get up, give Edward an attitude and let him drive me to school. No.

Fuck no.

I mean…a birthday banner?

Fuck no.

Three. Skip school as planned…but instead of being alone, play with Edward.

I still liked one the best, but hell. I couldn't just give in this easily.

So, three it was.

I hopped out of bed, tore to the bathroom to brush my teeth, found a rubber band and knotted my hair on top of my head without worrying about a brush and splashed cold water on my face.

In my room I grabbed the jeans on my floor and grabbed an old wife beater and a bra.

Bring it, Cullen.

Five minutes later, he did.

I was in the living room when my front door opened without a knock.

"Hello, Mr. Truancy Officer," I said, without looking up from the T.V.

"I have to say I'm disappointed," he said, and I heard his keys jiggling in his hand.

"Oh?" I asked, looking up.

He ditched the blazer and his shirt was already untucked.

This evil, sexy smirk crossed his face and I couldn't look and keep my legs crossed at the same time, so I focused on the starched collar of his shirt.

"Well, the female rebel of Forks ditches school and I come here expecting to find, oh, I don't know, an illegal gambling ring, maybe a few strippers; hell, at the very least I expected a few illicit street drugs…and all I get is a bad, albeit realistic, re-enactment of _Cops_."

"Excuse me?"

His eyes ran up and down my outfit.

"I like it," he shrugged.

"Sorry to disappoint. I'm feeling low key," I said, still looking at his collar.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"I'm up here," he said, pointing to his eyes.

I turned back to the T.V.

He flopped on the couch next to me.

I wanted to sit on his lap.

"You don't have to wait. I'm not going to school."

"Oh, I wasn't planning on going back. Fucking Smith couldn't teach me how to scratch my own ass and the whole school is abuzz with birthday party excitement. I was bored."

I groaned when he mentioned the birthday party.

"Get over it. You might just have fun," he sighed, letting his head lean back on the couch.

"Please. The only reason they're fun for you is because you get a guaranteed lay and some idiot girls keeping your drink topped all night."

He considered this for a moment.

"This is true," he finally conceded.

"I'm still failing to see the fun for me."

"If you're a nice girl, I'll let you be the one to keep my glass full," he grinned.

I kicked his feet with mine.

He retaliated by actually _flicking_ me in the forehead.

I huffed and lurched at him, preparing a flick of my own- but he caught my wrist.

So I went at him with my other hand, but the jerk-off caught that one, too.

"Well? Now you've gotten yourself in to a predicament," he said, amused.

His hands gripped my wrists tighter and he laughed while I squirmed but couldn't manage to break free.

I wondered if he was fooled, because I wasn't even trying.

I yanked back hard but he didn't let go and his face suddenly smoothed into calm.

"Bella?"

"What?" I snapped, and felt his grip slightly loosen on my wrists.

He leaned in and lowered my hands to my sides.

His hand went to my face and one finger slid down my cheek lightly and rested under my chin.

I was breathing too hard and leaning in too close and this was it.

He was going to kiss me and I wanted him to and I knew I wouldn't stop and I hoped we wouldn't leave any stains on the couch but then again I really didn't care at the time and I wished he'd move faster because I just couldn't wait much longer…

"Happy birthday," he whispered, then let go of me and leaned back on the couch.

I wanted to punch his lips.

Why wouldn't Edward Cullen kiss me?

Edward Cullen kissed anything with a vagina and legs.

Why wouldn't Edward Cullen kiss me?

Well, there was no way I could just sit on this couch with him and not be kissed.

"Right. Well. If I'm going to have a birthday party, I'll need something to wear," I said, standing up.

"What? You mean trash couture won't do?" he mocked.

"Laugh if you must, but I noticed you admiring a few times," I shrugged, stepping over his feet.

At the door I slid on my shoes and turned to him expectantly.

"Come on," I said, "you're driving me around today."

He raised an eyebrow and made no move to get up.

"Fine. I'm sure Emmett would love to," I said, pulling my cell out.

"Fuck that," he mumbled and shuffled to the door.

I gave him a smug grin as he opened the door, and gestured for me to go first.

As soon as I got myself comfy in the passenger seat, I noticed a small gift wrapped box on the dash.

Edward grabbed it and tossed it on my lap.

"Really?" I asked, taken aback.

"Really," he said, and put the car in reverse as I ripped open the thick paper.

"Who wrapped this for you?" I asked, pausing.

"Some chick. She's always late on the drink pick up so I figured I'd throw her a bone."

"How thoughtful," I murmured.

"Shut up. She was eager to help. Open it."

An iPod Touch.

"My Discman works…you didn't have to…"

"Uh, the hell I didn't. We can't have you disgracing good music on a bright yellow Discman. I did it for the sake of the music."

"I don't even know how to put songs on this thing—"

"I already did it. And I can teach you how."

I finagled it from the box and frowned.

"How does it turn on?"

Edward snatched it from my hand and kept one hand on the wheel.

His eyes flicked from the road to the iPod and then he tossed it back in my lap.

"Listen," he said.

I did.

A Whiter Shade of Pale.

I might love Edward Cullen.

My eyes closed and I listened and tried not to think of him, even though he was sitting beside me.

"Well?" he prodded.

"I…thank you," I said, simply.

"You're welcome."

I shifted to look out the window, because if he was going to give me A Whiter Shade of Pale and then not kiss me…I might die.

"Wait, where are you going?" I asked, noticing we were off trail.

"Well, I don't shop for shit here. I buy my clothes when I see my father in L.A. or when we go to New York…but I figure the best we can do anywhere near here would be Seattle."

I had to laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"There's a Target in Port Angeles," I said, still laughing. I mean, it was obvious.

"Right. Edward Cullen doesn't go to Target."

"Bella Swan does."

"Not when she's with Edward Cullen."

"Then she'll call up Jasper Whitlock."

Edward abruptly pulled the car to the shoulder of the road and put the car in park before actually bothering to come to a complete stop.

"I want you to stop threatening me with my friends."

"Are you threatened?"

"I'm annoyed. So stop it."

"Take me to Target."

"Do they even sell clothes at Target?"

"You seriously have never been to Target?"

"You seriously buy clothes at Target?"

"Turn around. We need to get you educated."

"I'm not sure if I want to be."

"I'm listening to and now own an iPod Touch; you can slum it at Target for an hour…or six."

"Six?"

"People have a tendency to get lost in the wonderland that is Target. You'll see."

"Bella—"

"It's my birthday. Please?" I asked, shifting toward him and lowering my voice.

He sneered and put the car in drive then turned us around.

Fifteen minutes later, we walked through the doors of the Holy Land.

"Grab a cart," I said.

"A cart?"

"The big red basket on wheels?"

"I know what a cart is…I just never shopped for clothes with a fucking grocery cart."

"Get over yourself."

He grabbed the cart and we proceeded.

I led him to the clothing racks where he stiffly sneered and made a point of not touching anything.

"Whaddya think?" I asked, holding up a black and white striped tube top.

He used one finger to check out the tag.

"Polyester blend? You'll get a rash."

I rolled my eyes and tossed the shirt in the cart.

"You know, the girls at school wear, like, Chanel or some shit."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not like the girls at school."

"I've noticed," he said quietly under his breath.

"Good. I'm relieved the differences are glaringly obvious."

"Me too," Edward shrugged, but he proceeded to pick up the tube top and put it back on the rack.

I put it back in the cart.

Edward sighed and loosened his tie with two fingers, then leaned against the cart, creeping it slowly forward.

"Look, why don't we separate? You go explore unchartered territory and I'll pick out my own shit. We'll meet at checkout in an hour."

"I'm not going out there alone. I'll get lost in a sea of cheap khaki and red vests."

"Don't be a pussy. Go. Learn something new," I said, waving him off.

He was seriously distracting me.

How was a girl supposed to concentrate with sex in a tie at her side?

"If I'm not there in an hour, call my father, a priest and a lawyer," he said before abandoning the cart and stalking off miserably.

Ten minutes later he was back.

"Did you know the cheap plastic sunglasses are located conveniently across from the Pop Tart aisle?"

"How is that convenient?"

"It just is," he shrugged and tossed a box of Cinnamon Pop Tarts in the cart.

Then he was gone again.

Another ten minutes later he was back with a piano scarf hanging loosely around his neck.

"You'll get a rash," I said, mocking him.

"Shut up. This thing is fourteen bucks."

"So?"

"So I paid two hundred and seventy five for mine."

"And?"

"And…I dunno. I just thought it was interesting," he said, then he was gone again.

I smiled at his retreating form and noticed his hands weren't shoved in his pockets anymore, they were kind of swinging back and forth with each long stride…and I had to smile.

Edward Cullen was falling and slipping into my world—and he didn't even realize it.

I was at the checkout lanes at our designated time.

Edward was not.

I combed the aisles and eventually found him, with his own cart, staring at a colorful row of deodorants.

I donned a smug expression and wheeled my janky cart up to his.

He had taken the caps off of several deodorants.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Smelling this shit. I have yet to find a decent one."

"Uh, clearly you haven't tried Old Spice yet," I said, grabbing it.

I opened the top and held it under his nose.

"It's great. If you like cheap old drunk man."

"I think it's…sexy."

"You have a skewed definition of sexy."

"Perhaps," I said, but dropped the deodorant in his cart anyway.

"I have standards," he said, putting it back on the shelf.

I let him, because I was too busy rifling through his cart to be bothered to argue about deodorant.

_Serial Mom_ and _Reservoir Dogs_ on DVD.

A pack of Bic pens.

A new toothbrush.

Car air fresheners.

A copy of _Rolling Stone_.

A box of fruit Roll Ups.

And the piano scarf was still around his neck.

"You like Target," I said.

"I may enjoy the convenience of being able to find Fruit Roll Ups and DVD's in the same establishment, but I'd still rather be at Barney's. And you like your Touch."

"I may be a bit impressed with the amount of songs that thing can hold, and I may prefer it to a bulky Discman…but I'm not getting rid of the Discman."

Edward beamed brightly at me.

"What?"

"We're compromising," he said proudly.

"I suppose we are."

"Huh," he mused.

"What?"

"I've never done that."

Back at the chief's house, I stood near the trunk, waiting for Edward to open it so I could get my shit out, but he was hesitating.

"So, hurry up and get ready. We have dinner with the doctor and Mommy at six," he said casually.

"Uh, what?""

"Dinner. At Chez Cullen. Six. I'd recommend dressing sharply, but we both know that's an impossibility for you."

"I'm not going to dinner at your house," I said, while he opened the trunk.

Why did he want me to go to dinner at his house?

He wouldn't even kiss me.

He could get _any_ girl to go to dinner at his house.

"Yes, you are. Mommy insisted. She's insecure with you hanging around, and frankly, my life will be a lot easier if you go in there and play nice. Besides, she's much easier to deal with when the good surgeon is home. Consider yourself lucky."

"Why should I make your life easier?"

"Because we're friends and because if you don't do this I'll be subject to a Mommy-style time out and a possible spanking."

"Ew. Are you serious?"

"Don't judge us. And brush your hair. Carlisle doesn't do sloppy."

"I'm so not going," I said, grabbing my bags from the trunk.

Edward pursed his lips for a second then reached into the trunk.

"Okay, don't come. I'll give you your last present now, then."

"Edward, you already gave me an unwarranted present, I don't—"

He shoved a thin cardboard square with a red bow affixed to the corner in my hands.

I stared up at him.

"What? No lonely girls desperate to wrap this one?" I asked, before looking down.

"No one I trusted, anyway," he said, and slammed the trunk.

I looked down at the object he put in my hands.

Tom Waits' _Closing Time_ on vinyl…in mint condition.

I actually gasped, then hugged it to my chest in an embarrassing display of nerdy fangirl.

Edward smiled down at me and let out a small, low laugh.

"Where did you find this? I've been searching forever and I've never come across one in such good condition, except for yours and—oh."

"S'okay," he said, ducking his head and sheepishly scratching at the back of his neck.

"No! No, I can't…I can't take your Waits. It's too much…it's sacred and—"

"And I want you to have it."

"I…why?"

"You're the only one I know who can appreciate it properly. Now enjoy the rest of your birthday. I'm going home to get ready for dinner. Alone. Enjoy your Waits."

Sick.

I knew what he was doing.

Guilt.

Manipulation.

Fuck…it worked.

I mean, he gave me his _Tom Waits_—to me this was the equivalent of his first born, of his blood, of--

"Edward, wait."

He paused and smirked at me over his shoulder.

"I'm well aware of the fact that you just duped me in to dinner, but I'll go anyway. Dammit. And it's only because of the Waits."

"Whatever works," he shrugged then loped in to my house.

Edward made quick business of helping himself to Charlie's Rolling Rock then flipped on the T.V.

Without a word, I went upstairs to shower.

I got naked and thought of Edward on my couch.

I soaped myself up and thought of Edward on my couch.

I dried and straightened my hair—and thought of Edward.

I put on my new tube top and covered it up with a demure black cardigan for dinner with Edward's family.

I braved the one pair of black heels I owned, for Edward…

Because he braved Target and because he gave me his Waits and because he smelled good and because when he smiles at me I want to sing and die and because even though he thinks he's an arrogant son of a bitch, he's not and because tonight Rosalie Hale was definitely going to prove me wrong.

Happy. Birthday. To. Me.

I stumbled down the stairs in my heels and glared at Edward while he watched me with an amused grin.

"You could have helped," I said.

"It was much more fun watching. You don't have to dress like—"

"I want to," I said quickly.

Edward ran a hand through his hair and sucked his lower lip in for a second, he seemed to be contemplating something.

He sighed a heavy sigh and kind of nodded then stood up.

"You know, you almost make Target clothes look classy when you're not falling all over the damn place."

"Thanks."

Outside the heavy cherry wood doors of the Cullen estate I was fidgeting.

Edward was annoyed.

Ever since I came downstairs, his mood had inexplicably turned shitty.

"What the hell are you doing?" Edward asked, pausing with his hand on the knob.

"I don't know…I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"I feel like I'm meeting the parents…as in _meeting the parents_."

"Well, you're not. Quit jumping around like that. You look strung out."

"I wish…"

"Look, you don't even have to say anything. Let Mommy play her weird ass Mommy game, then we're out. She won't want you around long, anyway."

"Oh, that's nice."

"I think so," Edward shrugged, then pushed the door open.

Larger and blonder and tanner than life Carlisle Cullen stood in the marble foyer, slipping into house slippers like he was motherfucking Hugh Hefner.

"Edward," he kind of nodded, and extended a hand to Edward.

"Carlisle," Edward said and shook his hand. "As always, it's good to have you home."

"It's good to be in Forks. Your mother says you've been a good boy."

"She's been a good girl."

An odd expression passed over Carlisle's face and then his gaze fell on to me.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen…but please, call me Carlisle."

"Bella. It's good to meet you, Carlisle," I said.

"Yes, well, it's always nice to meet Edward's friends," Carlisle said, then took a step back and blatantly checked me out, from head to toe, then back again.

Edward leaned on the wall and his arms crossed his chest, his face bemused.

"Bella, have you ever entertained the idea of breast augmentation?" Carlisle asked. "Nothing extreme, a full C-cup would really help to proportion your waist with your upper torso. I just did Jessica Stanley's last year and they turned out exquisite—"

I opened my mouth to speak, but what the fuck could I say?

"Her tits are fine," Edward said dryly.

"Just my professional opinion," Carlisle shrugged.

Edward pushed off from the wall without uncrossing his arms and brushed past his father and I followed, staring at the floor and wanting to go the fuck home.

Edward led me through a parlor, through a chef's kitchen, and into a lavish dining room with a table long enough to feed the Duggars…except there were only four settings.

Mommy breezed in donning a pink apron and a white pencil skirt and a scrap of material for a shirt.

"Oh! Edward and Edward's girlfriend! I didn't even hear you!" she smiled, scrunching up her nose in what was supposed to be a cute way.

Tanya kissed Edward on the tip of his nose and ruffled his hair.

"Did you kiss Daddy hello?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Sure did," he said…and I kind of wanted to cry for him.

How he turned out half as normal as he did was beyond me…this was fucked up.

"Good. Now what are you doing in here already? We haven't even had cocktails yet! I made you Shirley Temples."

"I don't want to do cocktails," Edward said.

"Of course we're doing cocktails. This is a formal dinner. Stop being silly."

"I'm not doing drinks—"

"Oh? You know Mommy's rules—"

Edward took another step closer to Tanya and towered above her.

"I'm not playing tonight, Tanya," he said in a low voice, then moved past her.

Tanya's jaw kind of jutted to the side in a pout…and it was suddenly obvious Edward had complete power over what went on in this house…when he was feeling passive, he let them play, when he was feeling bitchy, well, he didn't do anything he didn't want to.

It was weird and disturbing how this kid must've always just been…in charge of himself.

Edward roughly yanked out a chair and gestured for me to sit down.

Wide-eyed and skittish, I did.

He pulled out his own chair and plopped down, and Tanya left the dining room quietly.

"Um, are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he said. "I don't feel like playing her damn game today. Tanya knows when not to fuck with me."

"Okay…it's just, you've been in a shitty mood ever since you watched me almost kill myself on my stairs…I just—"

"Sorry. Let's just…eat and get the hell out of here," he said, and he looked suddenly very tired.

I grabbed his hand under the table, because he needed me to.

He stared down at his empty plate and his expression never changed, but he didn't move his hand from mine, either.

Carlisle came in and sat at the head of the table, followed by Tanya, who was pushing a silver service cart.

I raised my eyebrows at Edward, and he actually grinned back.

Tanya unloaded her cart, laying the entrée and all the sides on the table like a good little wife.

"Where's Rosa?" Edward asked.

"Oh. I thought I'd give her the day off. You know how I like taking care of my boys so much," Tanya said.

"Of course," Carlisle winked at Tanya, who slapped a piece of meat on Edward's plate and leaned over him as she started to cut his food for him.

He scooted his chair back and let her, resigned.

"So, Bella, how do you like the Academy, so far?" Carlisle asked.

"It's…different," I said.

"I graduated from there, as well as my wife. We're very proud alumni. How are you finding the Cullen wing of the school?"

"I'm finding it just wonderful," I beamed.

Edward looked at me while slowly chewing his food.

Fuck it.

He needed a partner in this.

I'd play ball.

"So, Mrs. Cullen, I was just admiring how you've sewn Edward's initials in his blazer."

She smiled widely at me.

"Yes, well, we don't want him losing any of his things, or getting them confused with his playmates."

"Indeed. Marvelous idea. Obviously my own mother isn't around, so I can fully appreciate the mother's touch."

"Of course. I love Edward as if he were my own," she purred, looking at him, while her husband dug into his food, oblivious. "I'd do anything for him."

"He's lucky to have you."

"Oh, darling girl, if there's anything at all I can do for you…it must be so hard with your mother away…"

"It really is," I said.

"I assume your father is back in town, as I haven't been babysitting you."

This caught Daddy's attention.

"Babysitting?" he asked.

"Yes, well, Chief Swan was out of town for a night and Bella needed looking after," Tanya said, and I could hear Edward swallow hard next to me.

"Chief Swan?"

"Her father," Tanya clarified, and Edward laced his fingers with mine under the table and his eyes closed for half a second.

"Your father is Charlie Swan?" Carlisle asked.

"Yes," I said.

"You're the Hotchkiss girl," Carlisle said.

"Yes."

"I hope you're the one seeing to protection, Edward—"

"Jesus," Edward sighed, and his fork clinked on his plate when he dropped it.

I burned in my seat.

"I mean no offense, Bella," Carlisle said. "It's just my personal experience has been that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You were conceived when Renee was still in high school, no?"

"I…"

"Edward has a lot on the ball. We can't be having any obstacles in his way."

"Mr. Cullen, I have to say I'm shocked. My relationship with Edward is not sexual in nature."

"Of course not," Tanya crooned. "Carlisle, darling, they're just babies."

"Who are capable of making babies," he said flatly.

And the whole thing was ridiculously surreal…and then…I giggled.

Quietly and into my napkin.

Because this was beyond insane.

Edward wouldn't even kiss me; his father, who thought I should have fake tits, just lectured me about getting knocked up and the incestuous Stepford wife was just…there.

Soon the napkin couldn't muffle my laughter and I gave up trying and let out a full on belly laugh.

"Is she on drugs?" Carlisle asked Edward, making me laugh harder.

"No," Edward said, and then he was laughing, too.

Our fingers stayed locked together under the table and we cracked up and caught our breath, then doubled over again.

Finally Edward stood up and pulled me with him.

"Where are you going?" Carlisle asked, looking at us like we just announced I knocked Edward up.

"Bella's party," Edward said, the easy smile back in place on his face.

Carlisle looked sharply at Edward.

"Take it easy tonight. We have croquet in the morning. I don't need you showing up looking like hell."

"What about dinner?" Tanya asked.

"Oh Mommy…_fuck_ dinner," Edward said, and tossed his linen napkin on his plate.

Hand in hand and still laughing like jackasses, we walked out of his house and got back in to the car.

"I'd say sorry, but you handled that amazingly well," Edward said, starting the car.

"Thank you," I said, bouncing in my seat and reaching to fiddle with the radio.

I felt suddenly exhilarated and excited.

Sure, they were fucked up, but somehow, in the middle of all of it, I had fun.

I had Edward.

He pulled the car up to the iron gates and pushed the button on his visor.

"You never changed," I said, yanking at his tie.

"But I still look good," he grinned.

I leaned in and sat on my knees so I hovered above him then used both hands to untie his tie, which had already been loosened.

My face was two inches from his and I could taste his breath heavy on my lips as my fingers trembled and fumbled with the tie.

He sat very still, and all I could see was his mouth.

"Thank you, Bella," he said so quietly that if I wasn't reading his lips, I wouldn't have known he spoke at all.

When the tie hung limply around his neck I didn't move back to my seat. Instead, I leaned in so I could shrug out of the black cardigan.

It was time to throw in the towel and prove Rosalie right.

I leaned in and let my tongue touch his lip.

Soft and Rolling Rock.

It was time.

Here.

Now.

He leaned up and I lowered my face to his and I kissed him softly and with my lips closed, once, twice and then his lips parted and his hand slid to the back of my head.

And then I knew that losing to Rosalie Hale would be the best thing that ever happened to me.

I shifted in closer and threw one leg over his lap, so I was wedged between his chest and the steering wheel and he kissed all soft and all hard at the same time like no one has ever kissed me…

And he took my breath away.

I whined for more and my hips started grinding into him.

His hands grasped my jaw tightly, and then my hands found his face and I let my fingertips graze the stubble and feel his jaw hinge and unhinge with each new wave of…_kiss_.

His hands left my face and slid down my ribs, then he gently shoved me back onto the steering wheel and he gave a quick breathless laugh before letting his lips touch my neck.

My head tossed back and his hands dug into my hips as his teeth lightly dug into my neck.

"Edward…" I panted through a smile.

He gave a deep, rumbling laugh in return, his lips never leaving my skin.

"Screw the party…" I mumbled, incoherent as his warm tongue lapped at my collarbone. "Screw Alice…screw Rosalie…"

Edward froze.

I lifted my head and he straightened himself up.

I leaned down to kiss him but he jerked his head away, and grabbed my hips and shifted me from his lap.

His eyes squeezed shut and he put one fist in his hair in what seemed to be frustration.

"What?" I asked, leaning back in, but Edward slammed on the gas and I was jerked back into the passenger seat.

"The fuck?" I spat, pissed off and turned on and annoyed.

He said nothing and the speedometer kept creeping higher.

"Stop the fucking car and let me out," I shouted, fighting confused tears.

He stared ahead and kept driving.

"You're fucking crazy," I shouted when he stayed silent.

His head turned slowly toward me and his tired lazy eyes found mine.

He smirked in a cold way and my stomach dropped, because whatever was coming next was going to break my heart.

"Pssh. I'm not crazy. I'd be fucking crazy if I actually fucked a chick in Target clothes."

I blinked.

I could have slapped him—

Or bit him—

Or kicked him in the motherfucking head—

But if I moved one muscle I would cry.

I thought- no- I _knew_ he was different.

But…

He wasn't.

I didn't have fake Stanley tits or Manolo heels or five hundred dollar highlights…

I had polyester blends and an outcast mother.

And that mattered to Edward.

So what the hell was today?

The fucking Waits?

The fucking hand holding?

He was cruel and I wanted out.

I slowly turned in the seat and numbly reached for the door handle.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked. "We're driving."

"Let me out," I whispered.

"No."

"Stop the damn car," I said.

"Just…shut up."

I heard the distinct click of the child lock.

"Let me out!" I shrieked sharply and he winced and jerked his head to the side but kept driving.

I wanted out…because my bones cracking on the concrete would feel a hell of a lot better than this.

He drove in silence while I swallowed back humiliated tears.

"Was I…was it like, some big joke?" I whispered after a few seconds.

He said nothing.

"Fuck you, Edward," I said, then turned to look out the window and discreetly wipe my tears.

I would have told him to take me home, but he wouldn't have and frankly, I needed to have a drink.

We pulled up to what Emmett fondly referred to as his 'crib' and I felt sick.

Alice had decked the place out in white, shimmering twinkling lights and I could hear music and laughing and all-around debauchery coming from the house.

I got out of the car and slammed the door then ran up to the porch.

Emmett was sitting on the steps, leaning against one of the six marble columns.

"And you know we don't give a fuck cuz it's yer berfday…" he greeted Fitty style, smiling up at me lazily, obviously drunk.

"Hey, Em," I said, and I decided what I'd do with myself that evening.

I sat down and leaned on the column opposite of him and tried not to look in Edward's direction, though I did hear a few faint squeals of his name coming from a few underclassmen.

"You sad?" Emmett asked, pushing off from the column and peering into my eyes.

"Not for long," I said and he handed me his drink…which happened to be a forty ounce of Olde English wrapped in a paper bag.

I took a sip, then another.

"Happy Birthday, Bella," Emmett said, kind of swaying his head to _I Got Five On It_.

"Great song," I mumbled in between sips of the O.E.

"Hell yes, it is," he said.

"Thanks for letting Alice throw a party at your house or whatever," I said.

"Thanks for giving me the excuse to have a bash, Playa."

"Hey, Em?"

"Hmm?" he responded, his pupils huge and his grin slow and happy.

"Do you ever learn who to actually trust in this place?"

"Nope," he said, fishing a cigarette out from behind his ear.

"I didn't think so," I mumbled, and took another gulp of beer.

"Bella?"

"Huh?"

"We're not all shady."

I kind of nodded and before I could actually sob out I put the bottle back to my lips.

Over and over again.

When it was gone I wrapped my arms around my knees and tried to tune out the laughing and screaming and happy coming from inside the house.

Without a word Emmett came and sat beside me and nudged my shoulder with his.

"You're a down ass girl. You'll be aight."

"Yeah," I sighed.

"You need me to break someone's knees or something? Because I will. And I'll get away with that shit, too."

"No," I laughed, but only after having a quick serious debate over it.

We were quiet for a few seconds, just listening to the muffled party sounds…

Then Edward was standing in front of us.

He hadn't fixed his collar or rumpled shirt from when I attacked him in the car.

I leaned over a bit to gaze just past him, to see right through him.

Emmett reached up and bumped a fist with Edward's…then looked back and forth between us.

"Oh shit. I'm not trying to hear any drama tonight," Emmett said, then walked back in to the house.

"Go away."

"No."

"Fine. I will," I said, getting to my feet…

And I was drunk.

I hadn't eaten dinner…I hadn't eaten anything…except for a forty of malt liquor.

"Just… let me talk to you."

"Pah," I uttered and spun on my heel, then he grabbed my elbow and spun me back around.

"Are you _drunk_ already?" he asked, his hand still grasping my arm.

"Careful, ya don't want poor germs," I said, yanking my arm back.

He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair.

"That's what I thought," I said, then took a step forward, but his arm was instantly around my waist, pulling me back to him.

"Let go."

He used one arm to lift me from the porch then turned me to him and I was forced to see his damn green, all worried-looking tired eyes.

His face turned up to the sky and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Look…just…what?" I stammered, unable to just _walk the hell away _from the asshole.

"We need to talk."

**OH HALE YES, we ended it there.**


	9. Chapter 10

**Wtvoc does Edward. Heh heh.**

**I dedicate this to my jandco and her predilection for bloody marys.**

**Edward**

Seriously. What the fuck is my problem?

Even I was aware that I was running hot and cold with that chick.

I almost wanted to run my hands through my hair, but I've tried hard over the last few years to stymie those childish impulses to show my frustration. Yeah. Cool as a cuke. That's me.

Fuck that shit.

"We need to talk."

About what?

Why did I feel this desperate need to explain myself?

And why did I hesitate when it was go time?

It's not like I couldn't rise to the occasion.

I mean… I've wanted to hit that for two weeks now. Basically since the day she strolled into that party, not giving two shits about anyone or anything in Forks.

And now, two weeks later… she gives more than two shits. She wants me.

I don't blame her. Everyone does. But this one's… different. Why? Why does she have to be different? Why can't I just win the fucking bet like I always do?

It has been my intention all along to just fuck her and move on, but after that whole Target Wonderland trip, I'm not entirely sure I can just walk away. I might actually wanna do it again. Over and over. Hmm… over, under, sideways. Possibly upside down.

That dinner was… well, to be honest? As expected. I'm amazed it wasn't worse. Tanya definitely had something up her sleeve, and I just had to get Bella away before it happened. Sometimes their foreplay just pisses me off. And dragging Bella into it, on her birthday? Fucked up.

I suppose I'm to blame for manipulating her into going. But really, I only did it to get back at her for making me go to Target.

Really.

So when she crawled into my lap and started hypnotizing me with her lips and hips, I was actually surprised. I figured she'd be stunned or pissed off or disgusted or at the very least indignant, but no.

I sat there and let her grind into me, biting my mouth. And for once, I let go. I just fucking went with it. I wasn't sighing inwardly, or taking glances at the clock on the dash to figure out how long I would have to keep kissing her _face_ until I could go further; I just… let go. For once in my damned life. Let go.

And kissed back. Really kissed back. I found my hands wandering, smoothing over skin and ribs and waist and there was no real thought process. I remember marveling over my lack of plan; just… touching. Tasting. Everything. Every sense was involved. I was aware of her fucking smell, letting it fill my mouth and nose every time I took a quiet, much-needed breath; I could hear her whimpers, her sighs. The sound of her knees squirming against the leather of my seat, her leg muscles quivering every time I inched my hands elsewhere. I knew girls were soft, but she has got to have the silkiest, best skin I've ever felt. Warm and comfortable and I just wanted to touch every bit of her with my fingertips, with my palms. I wanted to rub my face against the skin of her belly to see if it felt as fucking amazing as I assumed.

And just when I realized that there was no way we were going to do this in my damned car, that I wanted to turn the fuck around and go up to my room… _crash_.

I know there's no way she knows about the bet. She hates Rosalie. She would never give her the satisfaction of getting to fuck me. So when she said "Screw Alice, screw Rosalie", it was like it all funneled into my consciousness. The Bet. _Mon raison d'etre_. _Merde_.

I needed to think. I pushed her away. And then I allowed the Asshole to take over while I attempted to collect my thoughts and cool that mean hard-on.

I cringed when I saw her panicked look of absolute seething anger; I don't even know what I said. I think it was something about Target clothes? Honestly, I simply attacked the one thing about her that I found the most adorable. Sure, she was all bad ass with her Docs and predilection for Waits and her insistence on flirting with my friends, but she still, to use an Emmett phrase, "kept it real". There is nothing pretentious about her, and I really dig that. She just… _is_. So she shops at Target. Surrounded by the priciest, biggest examples of conspicuous spending there are, and she still exudes more class and intelligence than most of the bitches here.

So when I realized that the crazy girl was ready to jump out of a moving vehicle because I was being a douche, I hit the gas and got to the McCarty Place as soon as effing possible.

Where she ran out and into the arms of Emmett, of course. Her Big Poppa. I love that guy like a brother, but I'm about ready to punch both him and fucking Jasper in their throats.

I watched as he eyeballed her, all fucked up. I saw his purple pills earlier, so I knew he was flyin' high. And if drunk Emmett is a hornball… glazed, fucked-up Emmett is one "no" short of date rape. And he just kept feeding her that OE while pathetic, confused Edward sat in his car, all by his lonesome.

I actually ended up smacking my forehead silently on the steering wheel, cursing Mommy and the Bullshit Bullseye and my stupid fucking brain failing on me when I was getting ready to fuck. Stupid stupid stupid. Smack smack smack.

Maybe the steering wheel would have been effective at knocking some sense back into me if Bella hadn't rubbed her hair all over it. I could smell faint traces of her shampoo. The reaction was so visceral and instantaneous that again, without thinking, I was out of the car and up on the porch, just freaking _needing_ to talk to her.

Why?

Good Lord. Why? I'm starting to lose concentration around her, and I don't like it. Kind of like when I used to do blow. That shit gets me stupid.

And stupid I am. I need to regain control of the Bella Bet Situation. And from now on, I'm definitely not letting her corner me in my own car again. Well, at least without being prepared for it. She caught me completely off-guard. And the bet. The bet has me all frazzled. And there's the whole other element- that of the unknown. I simply don't know what to expect with her.

And there it is.

New, fresh pussy. She's coveted by the entire school. No wonder I'm having such a gut-wrenching reaction to the girl. And I'm sure that whole forbidden fruit thing, too. Chief's daughter. And now Carlisle had to go fuel the fire by warning me from knocking the girl up. Dammit. Extra fodder for my libido- parental disapproval. Like I needed the extra push. I maxed out on horndog the minute I saw Bella perusing the aisles at my record store.

It was good to figure things out. Taking a deep breath and ignoring my need to clock my buddy, I attempted to look contrite while inwardly I was grinning. Edward is back in control of his emotions.

He will not let the new girl win.

"We need to talk."

She looked at me, eyes narrowed. I still hadn't let go of her waist, and I unconsciously started strumming at her sides with my thumbs, willing her to come with me. I even tossed in a pleading look in my eyes. No girl would get the best of me, ever again. I had come close in the car there- she was so soft and fucking delicious and insistent and thrusting and my mind went on temporary leave.

No more. I am Edward Anthony Cullen. My mother was a Masen. My father has touched half of the tits in Forks. I am a spoiled, sullen, selfish, son-of-a-bitch. And I do _not_ get sentimental about the new girl.

No.

"Bella, come on," I whispered, looking down at the ground. Not down her top like I wanted; down at the patio. People were stumbling out the front door, falling all over each other and puking in bushes. Shit, it's not even eight and already the revelers are out of control. I needed in on that shit. I had a mean hard-on. I needed to alleviate the pressure, dammit.

"Fine. But quit fucking touching me," she snapped, twisting out of my grasp and stomping off into the house.

Hell. This is going to be tougher than I thought. Something tells me she won't be satiated by a kick-ass record this time.

I followed her and was having a hard time keeping up despite her weaving; she, for one, kept getting stopped by well-wishers that she didn't give a fuck about; and I kept getting stopped because- well, people stop me.

I finally broke free of about five girls, all holding low balls with what I guessed was my scotch when I noticed that she was stomping her way up the stairs. Good. Peace and quiet. Everyone knew not to go upstairs at Emmett's house. Well, everyone except _us_, of course.

I was about to step onto the first stair when suddenly, Rosalie popped out of nowhere, cracking her gum and adjusting her tits.

"Edward. We need to talk."

We need to talk. We need to talk. But I didn't wanna talk to Rose. I needed to give Bella some sort of excuse for my behavior.

Whenever I figured out what that excuse was, that is.

Sighing, I followed Rosalie into one of the guest rooms downstairs. Alice was in there already, busily wrapping what looked like assorted scarves and purses and other gregarious wastes of money. I grinned momentarily, relishing in the mental image of Bella's look of horror at the riches she'd be forced to accept as gifts. She was better than this crap; she wanted stuff with substance. No one around her knew her. Well, maybe Jasper.

"What, Rose? I've got shit to attend to."

"Yes, Cullen. Yes, you do. You have a bet that you're losing miserably. You'd better get on that before I get bored with the whole thing and call it off."

"You're already bored and boring. I'm on it. I'm working an angle."

"Which is what, exactly? She looked pretty pissed just now. Then again, angry sex is always a good way to go about business. Hurry, would you?" She sauntered over to Alice, shaking her ass at me. That usually did it for me, but I just wasn't in the mood today. I did, however, notice the way she put her arm around Alice to put a piece of tape on the shiny pink wrapping paper; Alice looked up at Rose, her smile dimpling around her cute little teeth. These two. They're doing it on purpose, and I wasn't sure that I was into the fake thing.

"It's almost like you're not interested anymore, Edward. And that just hurts." Alice was looking up at me through lowered lashes, batting them like you read about. Good thing Jasper's not around 'cuz he'd probably kill his own mother if Alice would only look at him like that.

"No, no. I'm interested. Believe you me, lady. I'm working on it. I just… decided to set myself a challenge. I mean, you should've seen the Swan girl all over my dick just now. Really. She definitely wants me."

"Good," Rose purred, stepping over Alice and coming up to me. I could smell her Chanel No. 5 wafting into my nostrils, and normally that stuff calmed me down. The fragrance of money and sophistication. But I still had the faint smell of cheap strawberry shampoo hanging around me, and the mixing of the two was making me feel nauseated.

"I really, really want you to see this bet through," Rose whispered right into my ear. She was tall; much taller than Bella, who barely made it to my chin. Rose was breathing lightly on my neck, and she reached out to straighten my tie.

"Leave it," I growled. I already couldn't breathe as it was.

"Tsk. Touchy. You need to get laid, Cullen. And I know just the white trash to do it. Now, go. Seduce her or play your own game or whatever it is you think you're doing. You have a handle on the situation, I trust?" She sashayed back over to the four-poster and sprawled out, revealing a helluva lot of thigh and a flash of red under her skirt. I tilted my head to the side so she knew I was looking, then I silently turned around and made my way up the stairs.

I had to try a few doors, but I eventually found Bella, in Mrs. McCarty's giant hot tub. Her eyes were red and her lips were puffy and pouty and fuck, I wanted to turn the jets on and climb in there with her. But I didn't. I sat on the edge of the tub, my legs dangling over the side as I leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail.

"Hey, birthday girl," I ventured, knowing that it would take my supreme bullshit skills to dig myself out of this hole.

"Fuck you, Junior," she spat, slapping my hand away. Junior? I almost laughed. Mommy would've loved that one.

"Look, I don't know what got into me today. You just… aw, fuck." Now I was confused. What the hell _did_ get into me today? I mean, I went into Target, for eff's sake. And I didn't hate it.

"You frustrate me, Bella." There, that sounded good.

"I- what?"

"Well, you've made it abundantly clear that you know I can get any girl I want."

"Uh huh." She crossed her arms and shifted, the squeak of the porcelain against her ass practically screaming into the softly lit bathroom. She arched an eyebrow at me, and she looked so damned ridiculous trying to be haughty when she was obviously hanging on the next words that were to come out of my mouth.

I grinned. "Self-preservation. I am shit. I shouldn't have said that about you. I mean, about your clothes. That was pretty dick."

"Yeah. It really was." She sighed, putting her head down on her knees. Aww. She actually bought it. I mean, I meant it. But still.

"So, do you want to fuck me or not?" Her voice was muffled against her knees, but I'm pretty sure that she was embarrassed. With a question like that, and her attitude in the public eye, I'm amazed she had shame. And that it took her that long to ask.

I laughed. "Have you _seen_ you? Of course I wanna fuck you. But not like that. Not because you were feeling sorry for me." Take that.

"Feeling… sorry… Cullen, that Mommy thing has got you fucked in the head. I'm serious. I'd recommend you guys go to family therapy, but I'm not entirely sure you wouldn't end up getting head from the therapist while your parentals looked on."

"And videotaped the entire session for later perusal."

"They'd certainly want to incorporate bonding exercises into it."

"And make me keep a journal of my dreams."

She was looking up now, swiping at invisible tears under her eyes. Now I felt bad. And I still desperately wanted to kiss her. That make-out in the car earlier was definitely making it into my shower jerking-off fantasy rotation. That was just… it was just. And all we did was make out.

Which, I believe, was my first big error. Kissing for that long. What is this, junior high? Error. That, and spending so much time with her. If I had to name what was really going on here, I suppose I would have to say that I liked her as a person, which is a problem. Most girls just aren't so… interesting.

For instance, right now. This gloriously frustrating girl is sitting inside a stranger's empty hot tub, morose and practically weeping because I gave her mixed signals. I give _everyone_ mixed signals. Mostly because I don't really feel like editing my actions. The annoying thing was- she was sad, and that made me sad. And I didn't know how to make her feel better.

So there we sat, her ducked down in an empty tub, not crying, but not ready to blow me, either. And I was leaning back lazily, my feet resting on one of the seats, trying to come up with something funny or sarcastic or maybe just rude so that she'd at least fucking react. I liked her all fiery. More fun that way.

And like I said. I just didn't want her to be sad anymore. I mean, it's her fucking _birthday_.

I was staring at her, but not really seeing her. Just trying to clear my head.

I needed a drink.

I could hear the faint roar of the party going on beneath us and I became aware that I was humming. Stupid Waits. I heard the song playing out in my head, plain as day. So I started to sing it under my breath, mumbling through the "well, the music plays and you display your heart for me to see" part when I became aware of Bella's stare. She had raised her head and was looking at me with a skeptical eyebrow, sniffling a little bit and sitting up straighter.

I looked down, embarrassed. Truth be told, I'm a kick-ass musician, but my singing kind of sucks. My voice gets gravelly when I sing in a lower register; it's annoying. But I kept going. I sort of mumbled through the "I hope that I don't fall in love with you" bit because that just sounded sappy, and she'd probably see it for the line that it was. I almost didn't want to look at her because I just didn't want this night to be the first time I saw rejection in the eyes of a girl I was after. She never stopped me, though, and she didn't move, and I just didn't know what to do so I kept on stumbling through the song, not moving a muscle.

I got to the end bit- where the guy searched the place for her lost face and guessed he'd have another round-

-when I felt her yank me by the collar on both sides. I was so taken by surprise that I just let it happen, and I kind of hurt my ass as I landed on the hard seat but I didn't care because she was just _there_ and hot breath in my mouth and I sucked it right in and I could taste her and she tasted like salty tears and OE and swollen tongue and fuck. In my lap, thighs squeezing thighs and my fucking dick up and mmph. That strawberry smell, everywhere. I realized my hand was on her neck and she was straightening her back, brushing her tits across my chin as she stretched up, her hair enveloping my head. I could barely see her eyes in the faint light coming from the vanity across the room, but they were wet and large and sucking me in.

"Hi," she breathed, and my face was just full of _her_, and before I could so much as say "hi" right back, she was kissing me again. Her tongue was on mine, but not sloppy or insistent or needy but soft, relaxed. Pulsing. Meeting mine stroke for stroke. I could've pushed it. I could have. But- didn't.

I didn't wanna.

This was perfect.

My hands eventually started wandering again, because dammit. How could I not explore that skin, taunting me with its creamy soft glow? She was sighing again, urging me on. I wanted that shit to last. I did. I kept going. I wanted to see how long I could go before I broke. Utterly amazing.

I do not know how long we sat there, barely balanced on a rock-hard porcelain bath tub bench as we writhed and groped. She had her fingertips running lightly under my shirt, going along my collarbone, around the back of my neck. Gracing my shoulders. I could actually feel the tingling somewhere in my dick area, and it felt… well, fucking _king_. I have no clue where this restraint was coming from. Maybe the idea of accidentally cracking her skull when I inevitably tossed her back to have my way with her because I knew once I had her on her back I would just not be able to fucking stop myself and the thought of burying my face between her tits was starting to drive me crazy-

"There you are," I heard a tinkling giggle from somewhere behind me. And every cell in my body groaned. Fucking Cockblock Alice.

Wasn't she in favor of this? The fuck is _with_ the women in my life?

"Come on, Bella," Alice said, walking into the room. It was a wide-open bathroom, and we were right in the middle of it. Bella climbed off of my lap and straightened her clothes. She hesitated for a half second before climbing out, never once meeting my eyes. Right. We still needed to talk.

The hell am I doing?

I had to take some deep breaths before moving. Not only to calm down and steady my heart beat, but so that I could replace the complacent and half smiling Edward face with the Asshole Expression.

With the game face back on, I stepped out of the tub and strode out of the room, ready to grab Bella and take her away from this stupid party.

But Alice was practically dragging her downstairs, where the entire cool population of Forks Academy was gathered, heartily singing a sloppy, drunken rendition of "Happy Birthday" while toasting Bella, each other, themselves, the room in general, and other assorted things to celebrate. It was like there wasn't a party practically every freaking day around here or something the way they were drinking. Trying to impress the new It Girl, I guess.

Who was not impressed. Emmett was smugly wheeling out a three-layered, pink cake. Going by Jasper's grin, I'm sure it was one of those bullshit sugar-free fun-free things Alice was into. Better than bulimia, I suppose. There were a thousand candles on the thing, and I wouldn't've been surprised if Adrian Young popped out of it; this party was Alice's dream. Not Bella's.

Not that dining with June and Ward and having her chest insulted was a fantasy come to life. Bella needs a _good_ birthday party, dammit.

With the "and many more"s, Emmett and the cake made it to the foot of the stairs by clearing a path with the inferno it was. Bella put on a fake smile and sucked in a huge breath; I watched as about fifteen guys elbowed forward, helping her put out the candles. I lazily leaned on the banister upstairs, watching the fools try and get in. I'm sure everyone knew the two of us were up there alone, but since I wasn't staking claim on her or anything, they must've assumed I was done and she was now a free agent.

What a bunch of assholes.

I gotta get outta here.

Rosalie was leaning on one of the columns flanking the front door; she was smirking, her arms folded as she silently asked me if I was done. I just scowled at her, ambling down the stairs as I watched the dregs scramble for Bella's attention. She was surrounded; couldn't even move. Jasper was handing Alice a big knife, and Alice was busy barking out instructions to everyone while holding onto Bella's elbow. What a mess.

I didn't say a word to Rose as I left. I simply hopped in my car and drove home.

Carlisle was right. I didn't want to look like shit tomorrow. Because tomorrow I _would_ talk to her.

I had been asleep for a few hours when I heard a scraping noise. My window was partly open, so I recognized the sound. And a closed-eyed, lazy grin spread across my face because I knew without looking that she was back.

"How the hell did you keep getting past the gate, anyway?" I could hear the sleepy in my voice and attempted to clear it. Every cell in my body was waking up.

"They have the codes down at the station for all of the big houses, you know."

"And your Dad just hands this information out, does he?"

"No. But Deputy Mark is remarkably susceptible to lip-biting and a little cleavage flashing. Scoot over."

"My kind of guy." She had slipped out of her sweater and wasn't wearing those ridiculous heels. I flipped the corner of the blanket over, moving to make room. I normally slept in the middle, but I was going to make sure I didn't steal the covers this time. She wasn't wearing enough to stay warm.

With a sigh, she flopped down on the pillow next to me. We still weren't touching; I desperately wanted to, but dammit. Since we needed to actually talk this time, I didn't want to go down that road until I was clear on things, and if I felt her skin under me, there's no way I'd stop that shit this time. And there were no cockblocks in sight. Down, boy. Talk first.

But I didn't know what to say.

And I was fucking _tired_.

"G'night, birthday girl," I whispered. And laid there, listening to her breathing slow down. Only until I could tell that she was asleep did I move. I turned my head and watched her; lips slightly open, she had her face turned toward me, her arms over the covers with hands clasped across her chest. Despite the shitty evening, she looked all peaceful lying there.

I decided to let her be. I'd sort everything out in the morning.

Then we'd see about that bet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was startled out of sleep again, only this time I wasn't sure why. I looked to my side and was pleased to discover that I did not hog the covers this time. Bella was still there, looking as peaceful and warm as she had several hours ago. Suppressing a moan, I glanced at the clock. Seven a.m. I _never_ awaken this early on a Saturday. Being careful not to wake her, I got up to shower. The game was at the Hale House this month; Mrs. Hale was pissed if you weren't there by nine. I had a few hours, and I'm sure Bella would want to go home and change before the game.

What would I say to her when she woke up? I doubt she'd want to face breakfast with my parents. If they ever left their room, of course.

I creeped downstairs, not hearing any movement. Good. Maybe I'd go get some donuts or something. A normal, teenage breakfast.

I climbed into the Cadillac and took off, lost in thought. Last night had my head all twisted and fucked. And I wasn't sure why. I had a bet to win. I had the girl panting for me. I had two girls waiting for me.

I knew what I had to do, and I hesitated.

Before I realized what I was doing, I was on the highway, heading away from Forks. Running from my issues?

I just drove, listening to stupid soft rock that I wasn't aware existed as a radio station.

And then there it was, shining. Like a beacon. That damned Bullseye. My eyes narrowed, like it was taunting me. Challenging me with its low prices. Fucking Target.

I exited, turning into the parking lot. And there were fucking _cars_ there. Who fucking goes to Target at eight a.m. on a Saturday?

Losers who can't seal a deal, apparently.

I found myself parking. Heard the doors swish in as I entered. I grabbed a cart. Started wandering. Kid's clothing. M&Ms. Free giftcard with soda purchase. Britney Spears makes a fragrance? What the fuck is Choxie? And what the hell am I doing here?

I stopped mid-walkway, leaning forward and putting my head in my hands. She's at home in my bed, possibly being awakened by my stepmommy, and I wasn't there to save her. Was I doing that subconsciously to get rid of her?

I became aware of vicious muttering. Making a right into the magazine aisle, I noticed a Target employee wearing black skintight pants, a red t-shirt, and those stupid emo fingerless gloves that go to the elbow, only they were black-and-white-striped. Very _Nightmare Before Christmas_. Her hair was short and spiky, dyed fake black with chunks of red. She had a constant litany of cursing going, and as she turned to the side, she sneered, the piercing in her nose dancing as she muttered.

"Fucking idiots. Can't effectively take down TPCs. And then I have to honor the price change. And who the fuck forgot to…" She just wasn't stopping. I wanted to laugh, but I was pretty sure she'd try to kick my ass if I did.

"Fucking Target. Target is the devil. It carries disease. These damned people, never covering their damned mouths. Buying things they don't need. Why Target carries all of this crap is beyond me. I'm going to kill someone if they ask me where Wal-Mart is one more time, I swear. Get the hell out of my store. I hate this place. Target embodies all that's-"

"Target does not suck." I must have a death wish.

She turned around slowly, a look of pure disbelief on her face. Her eyes squinted as she took in my prep appearance; Croquet Saturday had strict rules of dress, so I was wearing a navy blue cashmere sweater with an untucked white shirt under it, and khakis, of course. Not cheap Target ones. I'm sure I looked like I stepped out of the A&F catalog, only not gay.

"Can I help you find something?" she sneered at me, her fine-pencilled eyebrows challenging me.

"Yeah. Amelia, is it? Target does not suck. You sell Pop-Tarts and camping gear. It's insanely convenient."

"Thanks, Rich Boy. I'm sure it's fun for you to slum it up in here and all, but don't you have some Cotillion to attend?"

I had to laugh. I hadn't been to a Cotillion in two years, since all our girls debbed. The women of Forks had to get used to my "nos"; I no longer acted as escort. That shit gets old.

"Are you sure they let your kind out in the daylight?"

"I have to lure you Forks Bitches in somehow."

"You're right. We don't allow Emo into Forks."

She chuckled. "You're alright, kid."

"Edward Cullen."

"Of THE Cullens?"

"Yep."

"Ooh. I feel honored by your presence."

"You should."

"I bet you think I want to fuck you."

"No bets, please."

"Not the gambling kind?"

"Au contraire."

"Don't use your fancy schooling skills on me. Did you need something?"

Guidance? Advice? A way to back out of a bet gracefully?

'Cuz yeah. I wanted out of the bet.

I can admit it now.

Thank you, Target.

"Thanks, Amelia."

"What the hell for?"

"Being Emo. You've sucked me in."

"Glad to hear it. Really- are you okay?"

"No. But I will be. And I'll take one of those Maxims."

"You would. Megan Fox is hot."

"Indeed." I took the magazine and flipped it into the cart.

"Seeya around, Emo Girl."

"Later, Richie McPrepperson."

Smart ass.

I felt better.

Time for croquet.

I actually felt lighter as I drove back. I had no idea what I was going to say, but I knew it'd be clear when I got home.

But when I got there, Tanya and Carlisle were getting into the Benz, urging me forward. I told them I'd meet them there, and the Good Doctor tapped his wrist meaningfully. Rolling my eyes at him, I ran into the house, sprinting upstairs. I knew seeing her would lock everything into place.

But of course when I got there, she was gone.

So I drove off to the Hale's alone.

XXXXXXXXXX

I was greeted with a Mimosa by a guy in a blue polo and white pants. As ever.

All around me were the elite of Forks, the old-moneyed, snooty jerks who were hitting croquet balls with abandon. I had never even bothered to learn the game in all the years of attending these monthly rituals. The Forks Rich Folk were as serious about their croquet as most Americans were about their beer. My eyes sought out Bella, but I couldn't find her anywhere.

But boy, did I hear about her. Her name was on the lips of everyone I passed.

Mr. McCarty was being the most vocal.

"Ever since Renee Hotchkiss unceremoniously left Forks in disgrace, the whore contingent has been sorely missed. Good thing her daughter's back. And from what I hear, we're in for a treat, gents," he proclaimed, raising his Mint Julep to his mouth in salute. The men around him, my father included, were grinning appreciatively.

"The only reason I respect Chief Swan is because he tapped that ass," he continued, finishing his drink with a gulp and absent-mindedly reaching for another as a server quietly handed him the next. Carlisle gave his assessment of her body, which seemed to have changed from needing light work to being perfect in every way. Fucking hypocrite.

I made my way over to my crowd, shaking my head at Rosalie's zeal in winning. She was definitely in her element here, going out of her way to knock all opponents out of play rather than taking the win. So predictable.

"Edward. I see that you're alone. Thank you for not inviting the trailer park over," she said lightly, sipping on her Bloody Mary with pinky raised.

"Rosalie. Thank you for reminding me why we've never fucked," I responded smoothly, nodding to the bartender for my scotch. I needed to think. Everyone froze for a second as Rose glared at me, but I couldn't give a fuck just then. Why wasn't Bella here?

"Edward. Play nice." Alice came over and put her arm around my waist, and I leaned against her without thinking about it. She really was a nice person. I have no idea what she saw in Rosalie except that they've been BFFs since second grade when Rose started getting tits and Alice discovered Travis Barker.

"Yeah, Edward. We're nice. You should be, too." Rose was all honey and batting eyelashes and the faux sincerity usually threw me a stiff one, but I just didn't want it right now. Sincerity is where it's _at_. I'm tired of the lack of fucking authenticity sometimes.

Rosalie was gabbing with some other girls about how she and Bella went to finishing school together and how Bella used her tricks to fuck every guy in sight blah blah blah. I had heard it before. Classic smear campaign. Too bad it wasn't working. The girls all narrowed their eyes whenever Bella was around, mostly because she was either arm-in-arm with Jasper, getting smacked on the ass by Emmett, or snaking one of my earbuds and listening to the Velvet Underground with me. But I also noticed that a lot of them had picked up the sweater vest thing and insisted that their mothers were making them use them so it wasn't a "complete waste of money". My ass. We _are_ complete wastes of money.

I saw Jasper emerge from the bushes with a bottle of Bombay and two freshman. Way to work off your pain, J. He had a toothpick balanced on his lip, and when he saw me, he made a beeline.

"You're late, bitch. You'd better avoid Mrs. Hale; she'll want to punish you for that."

"Reason enough to go look for her," I responded automatically, no enthusiasm, whatsoever. Jasper raised his eyebrows at my tone, using his tongue to flip the toothpick over.

"I swear, Whitlock. Where do you get this shit?" I groused, shoving my hands into my pockets. I did not feel like playing croquet today. Ever, really. But especially not today. I saw Mrs. Hale emerge from the house, looking disheveled and being trailed by one of the servers. Good. Her ire is easier to handle when she's been freshly fucked.

I sweet-talked Rosalie's mom when she noticed me and came over to bitch about my tardiness. They're so easy, these women; a few double entendres and grabbing her drink to take a sip and I was forgiven. All too easy. These rigid "society" rules drove me up a fucking wall, anyway. And I needed to call Bella.

Edging slowly toward the pool house, I slipped away unnoticed (except by maybe Jasper) and reached into my pocket for my iPhone. It took a few calls, but I'm annoyingly persistent when I need to be. She finally picked up on the fifth dial with an "I can't do this right now, Edward."

Funny how hearing her say my name made me smile.

"Do what? Where the fuck are you? You're supposed to be playing croquet."

"Croquet? Please." Her derisive laughter only turned me on more. "Bella doesn't do croquet. Especially when it's at Rosalie Hale's house. I'd rather get head from a syphilitic with cold sores. Besides, I wasn't invited."

"Of course you're invited. You're with me. Anyway, I'm coming to get you. We still need to talk."

She sighed and was silent for a moment. It felt like five minutes, but it was probably more like five seconds. Finally, she spoke.

"Fine. Come get my ass. But I am _not_ going to croquet. I already want to kill Heather Number One. But I'm no Winona Ryder, and you're much hotter than Christian Slater."

"You make no sense."

"_Heathers_, Cullen. It's a movie us common folk like to watch from time to time."

"Yeah, I got that. Just… please. Please? Can I come and get you? I promise to play nice."

"I thought you played pretty nice at the end there last night."

"Yeah, you don't suck, either."

"Big compliment, coming from you."

"And I meant every word of it."

She paused for a moment. "I believe you."

"Thanks."

"Give me like, twenty minutes to get ready."

"I'm already on my way."

**So. you. Yeah, you. Where's your entry for a Very Cullen Christmas? Deadline approaches, BBs….**


	10. Chapter 11

**AN: heya! jandco does Bella. There is filth in this one…well, there's filth in all of them, but this one has physical filth.**

**Don't read it if yer a minor, or if yer opposed to filth in general—although if yer reading this story, yer already neither of these things.**

**For Liz, because she inspires filth.**

**As always, couldn't do this without wtvoc—literally, I couldn't. she writes Edward.**

**wtvoc says: yer right. i do Edward. **

_**special author's note**_**: the deadline for the "a very cullen christmas" collab contest is this Sunday, which is also gallantcorkscrew's birthday. also, this one goes out to birdman94, who fascinates wtvoc for some odd reason. he (yes, **_**he**_**, ladies. There are dudes who read our shit!) stalks wtvoc on and has a similar obsession for jandco, but really. can ya blame 'im?**

**jandco: birdman94, i never ignored you. quit lying to wtvoc. it won't git you in her pants.**

**wtvoc: that's not true. this could be rob in disguise, j. never forget that. if it is rob… then lying would, indeed, get him in- like a brand new key card at the marriott. which reminds me... we want proof birdman94 is a dude.**

**j: photographic proof.**

**and i ain't talkin a square jaw and an adam's apple...**

**w: ooh, quit turnin' me on.**

**no, wait.**

**IF WE GET A PEEN IN OUR BOX, WE'LL BE UPSET.**

**wait, that came out wrong.**

**j: dude. don't send pics. **

**w: true. we require the url to a social networking site that is definitive proof that you are, indeed, a person of male gender who uses emoticons and reads twilight fanfiction.**

**j: that shit is rare.**

**w: it so is. wait. i'mma quote wayne's world here: WHAT ARE WE DOING? WE'VE GOT TICKETS TO ALICE COOPER.**

**ON WITH THE SHOW.**

Chapter ihavenoclue

Edward and I didn't say a word to each other as I got into his car and we drove.

If he was so desperate to talk, I wished he'd get on with it already.

When I woke up in his bed alone, my first reaction was to be mad.

How dare he leave me here alone, right?

But as I shimmied down the window and slid out the iron gates and trudged my way back to the wrong side of the tracks, I realized he did me a couple of favors.

One- I didn't want to go to croquet at Rosalie Hale's house, so I got out of that.

Two- he made me realize I could not lose to Rosalie Hale.

I mean, first of all, if I slept with Edward, it wouldn't be just _sleeping with Edward_—I'd fall harder, and frankly, I can't fall for a guy who- well- who does things like play croquet at Rosalie Hale's house.

He could be sweet, he was definitely confused about something, he was beautiful and he could play piano and he liked Tom Waits…but still. He was pretty much the anti-Bella in every other way.

We'd never make it, anyway.

It's just…when I was sitting in his car, right next to him, I wanted to kiss him. So this friend thing might not work either.

Finally, the silence was too much and I just had to say something.

"That's pretty sweet croquet attire," I said, pulling at the starched white collar peeking out from his blue sweater.

"I know," he grinned.

"Well, did you win, or what?" I asked.

"First off, I didn't stay long enough to even play. Secondly, I never actually play, anyway- soccer is the only sport I put physical effort in to. Thirdly, no one actually wins. They pretend they're not drunk off of the breakfast cocktails and gossip about whoever turns their back for a moment while holding on to croquet mallets."

"You run with a really genuine crowd," I remarked flatly.

"Well. I can't say I'm not one of them," he said stiffly.

I wanted to protest that, but I knew he was probably right.

Reason number three not to sleep with Edward.

And he just handed it over…why didn't Edward want to sleep with me?

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To the one place where all of our pivotal, unguarded moments seem to happen," he said.

" I'm not going to sleep with you ," I said, more to convince myself than him.

"I didn't say I was taking you under the Academy bleachers…and I'm not going to try," he said. "You know, you have a one-track mind. Is it always sex with you?"

"Just…take me to wherever we're going and say what you have to say."

Fifteen minutes later, we were in Edward's bed, the covers pulled to our chins, laying stiffly side by side.

"And _I_ have a one track mind? _You_ have to be in bed to have a conversation."

"The bed doesn't represent sex. It's just the one place we clear things up."

"Whatever," I sighed, because I was annoyed. "Just speak now."

Because it did remind me of sex and it wasn't helping my resolve—at all.

"I went to Target today," he said.

"You what?" I asked, amused and confused.

"The damned bullseye…it's like a lure—"

"I know!" I squealed in excitement. "How was it? On your own?"

"Awful. Cheap and bright and awful and there was some militant emo chick just spreading faux hate—"

"Amelia? Right? She's such a big bitch that you kind of have to like her."

"Yeah! That was her name. Anyway, she's fucking mumbling this diatribe that makes absolutely no fucking sense, because she's all emo and angry for no fucking reason, and then she says something that does kind of make sense and—"

"Edward. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Look. My friends are fucked up. I'm fucked up. I'm a part of their…games and whatnot."

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Yes. No. Look. I don't mean to confuse you, or to be all hot and cold with you…"

He trailed off, and I knew he was hesitating…and then I realized he was right.

About this bed.

And I didn't want to have to tell him I wasn't supposed to sleep with him, I didn't want us to think about Rosalie or his fucked up friends and family—I just wanted us to be in this bed where we were us, and all the other shit could fall to the wayside…as long as we always had this bed.

And I knew he was harboring a secret of his own.

And I knew he felt sad or mad or something about it—but I had a secret, too.

So I wouldn't push him for his, and I'd keep mine to myself, because in this bed, things were perfect and I wouldn't let anything fuck that up for me.

I could have that.

I could be satisfied with that.

"Edward…at school and stuff…like, I know I act aloof with you…but it's hard, with those people. I like Jasper a lot, he's cool, but…I don't really trust _any_ of them. Hell, I only trust you when we're in this bed. So, can't we just have this? Like, be friends or whatever…just like this?"

"Are you serious?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Well, yeah. I mean, whatever at school and stuff, but, I don't have any close friends here…why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because…because I just expected you to be…mad."

I stared up at him and noticed he looked utterly relieved.

"I'm serious," I said.

"So, you wanna be like, secret BFFs?" he asked, a patronizing smile spreading across his face.

"Forget it," I said, kicking the covers off. "I shouldn't have thought that you'd understand. Just—forget I said anything."

"Wait," he said, grabbing my arm. "I like it."

"You do?" I asked over my shoulder.

"Sure. I'm all about anything underhanded and shady. But if we're going to be BFFs, I want second base rights. It's my bed, after all."

Okay, it was only feeling up…I had willpower…I'd be able to stop…

And besides, no one would ever know.

And besides, I really wanted him to kiss me some more.

And besides, it was pointless to try to say no. I was already a goner.

"Second base? What are you, twelve?"

"We could make it third."

I'd have no willpower left at third.

"No. Second works."

"We'll see."

"I suppose we will."

He gave a sharp yank on the back of my shirt; I yelped a giggle and was flat on my back.

We only made it to first that afternoon.

We kissed…a lot.

The odd part was we talked even more.

Emmett picked me up for school on Monday, and I was in a jovial mood, the Bone Thugs N Harmony we bumped to on the way there only made me lighter.

"So, shorty. I take it the drama has passed?" Emmett asked, navigating to school smoothly in his Range Rover.

"I'm good," I said, grinning up.

"Good. Ya know, whatever comes up, I got yer back, though, right?"

"I know it," I said. "And I think…I'm figuring my shit out. Hey Em?"

"Sup?"

"You're close with Rosalie, right?"

"For real. I love that ho."

"Don't be offended, but…why?"

"Because she's a straight-up scandalous trick. I can't get enough of that shit."

I had to laugh.

At least he loved her for what she was.

"And Jasper and Edward, too? They're okay, too," I ventured, because I liked Emmett's perspective on people.

He was blunt and he was honest.

"Pssh. Those kids are the Bel and Biv to my DeVoe. Edward can pull some shady shit, but he's like a pit bull—I mean, once you have his loyalty, it's yours for life, and he'd kill a motherfucker for his friends."

"He would not," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Okay, you're right, he wouldn't. But the loyalty shit is true…you're feeling Edward, huh?"

Actually, more accurately, I was being felt _by_ Edward.

"No…" I said casually. "Just still trying to figure out the good from the bad."

"Lemme know when you do," Emmett said, turning the radio back up.

In the parking lot at school I spotted Edward immediately.

He was leaning against his car, tie not yet tied, loose cuffs and a lazy smile. Jessica Stanley's arm was linked through his and there was what appeared to be an underclassman wiping non-existent spots from Edward's car with a white rag.

Emmett cut the ignition, pointed and laughed.

"What is he doing?" I asked.

"Making the peons buff his car," Emmett smirked, but with admiration.

I rolled my eyes and hopped out of the car.

I will not get jealous.

I will not get jealous.

I chanted over and over in my head—this was what we agreed to.

Normal school activities…this was my idea.

I will not get jealous.

I made my way to Jasper's car, where he was talking to Rosalie.

I'd hold my chin up. I hadn't done anything to prove her right.

"Morning," I greeted to Jasper.

"Ah, good morning Bella," Rosalie chimed. "Shame you had to take a rain check on croquet—"

"I didn't. I just didn't show up. And I won't ever show up."

Jasper cocked his head in consideration of this.

"It's probably best that way," Rosalie whispered loudly to me. "We wouldn't want anyone feeling out of place. Anyway, I trust there's nothing new to report?"

"Nope."

"Well, have a stellar day," she beamed, kissing Jasper on the cheek and strutting off.

"I wasn't aware you were reporting to Rosalie," Jasper said, his eyebrows raised.

"She's psychotic," I offered as a response.

"Fair enough," Jasper conceded.

He opened his vest and pulled out a silver cigarette case from the inner pocket.

He snapped it open with a flick of his thumb and held it out.

"Clove?" he offered.

"I'll share yours," I said.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, and lit the clove.

He took a long pull then spoke before the exhale.

"I'm concerned for your social welfare, Bella."

"Oh?"

"Well, it was obvious you were, shall we say, a bit blue? The night of your birthday party."

"I hate birthday parties," I shrugged.

Jasper squinted one eye and let the smoke come in smooth wisps from his lips.

"You're a shitty liar, Swan. Pressing ain't my style, so I won't."

"Thank you," I said, grateful for his friendship and cool demeanor in general.

I gave a yank on the wallet chain and Jasper pushed off from his car and escorted me across the parking lot.

We paused at Edward's car.

His hair was still damp and he was grinning at us, while at the same time tying his tie.

"Late night activities?" Jasper asked, looking back and forth between Edward and Jessica. "You're looking rushed this morning."

"Something like that," Edward smirked and he was now working on buttoning his cuff. "I'm exhausted, but it was well worth it."

Jessica grinned like a Cheshire cat at me and leaned in to Edward.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

Jessica was trying to imply she and Edward had been up all night fucking…which couldn't possibly be true, since I was the reason Edward was so late today.

I didn't leave his house until quarter to four this morning.

"Nice," Jasper said, and started to move me forward.

"Hold up bitch, I have something for you," Edward said, reaching in to his open backpack on the trunk.

Jasper held his hand out and Edward thrust a CD case into it.

I leaned over Jasper to look.

Through the clear cover I could see a rewritable disc.

And on it was an autograph.

"_To Jasper, Best of Luck—Taylor Hawkins_"

"Rare Foo Fighters bootleg," Edward said. "Thought you'd enjoy that."

"Well played, Cullen," Jasper said stiffly, then he leaned down to kiss my cheek and pulled me close to his side. "You and Stanley have a good day. La Bella and I definitely will."

"I'm sure," Edward said dryly.

"You missed a spot, bitch," Jasper said to the poor kid silently buffing Edward's car, then we resumed our walk to the school, pausing for a second when he dropped the CD in the trash.

"That was odd," Jasper mused, his eyes narrowed.

"Isn't that what you two do?"

"Yes. I meant his reaction was odd. La Bella, did you put out for Cullen?"

"No. What kind of girl do you think I am?"

"Any kind…hmmm. I've never seen Edward so nonchalant about a girl he hasn't fucked yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"No clue. But I will figure it out."

"Good luck," I sighed.

"I don't need luck, dear. I'm a clever son of a bitch. I'll figure it out."

I tried to hide my grimace—he was probably right.

And the day passed as such.

Edward and I had pointless spots of banter at lunch and in history…but neither of us mentioned a word about our afternoon, or our night…

And what surprised the hell out of me was what a turn-on it was.

Occasionally our eyes would lock as we passed in the hall or at lunch…and I was amazed out how much I was enjoying our "secret".

It went on like that for the next three days and three nights.

I was a buoyant, exhausted ball of constant thrill.

I loved the way he looked at me and saw me, in ways no one in those crowded hallways could see.

I loved that I knew what he smelled like when he woke and that I knew he sucked his lower lip in his sleep.

I loved how one second he was a calculating, condescending asshole, and the next a soft-talking pianist.

I simply loved.

On the fourth night, I slipped in his window, already in my sweats and eager to see him.

He had the lights off, aside from a small reading light near his bed.

There was soft music playing on his stereo, something I didn't recognize.

He was wearing a pair of navy drawstring sweats- nothing else- and was sprawled diagonally on his stomach across his bed.

I watched his smooth, broad back slightly raise and fall with each breath, and my eyes traced every curve of his shoulder blades…maybe I should go.

This could lead to, well. Way past second base.

"Oh. Is tonight no good?" I ventured quietly.

I knew he must be exhausted…I was exhausted…

"No. It's good," he said, tossing his book to the ground.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothing good," he sighed, rather restlessly.

I flopped on my stomach on the bed beside him.

Edward dropped his chin and cocked his head to the side to look at me. There were dark shadows under his eyes made more prominent by the dim lighting, and the easy smile didn't come so easy tonight.

His hair looked black in this light and I couldn't help it. I had to put my fingers in it, so I did.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah…tired," he said, letting me slowly muss his hair.

His eyes closed for a second, and his dark lashes made shadows over his face.

"You can sleep. Sleep," I said, moving to roll off the bed, rather reluctantly.

His eyes opened.

"Don't be fucking stupid, Bella. Stay."

I stayed put.

Edward rolled on to his back then nudged me with his elbow to do the same.

"Look," he said.

I rolled over.

"What am I looking at?" I asked.

"The ceiling," he sighed.

It was an alligator.

Or rather a shadow puppet alligator.

"How the hell are you doing that?" I laughed.

He didn't answer, but there was a blur of shadow on the ceiling, and then a very distinct dog.

"Show me more," I said, thoroughly impressed.

"Mmkay. Lemme think. I haven't done this shit in years…"

Next was a dinosaur—I clapped for that one.

Then a bird.

"Seriously, how the hell to you know how to do this?"

"Eh, I had a creative nanny," he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You had a nanny?"

"Are you surprised? Really?"

"No," I said, then the thought of Edward as a child had me mesmerized. "Edward is an odd name for someone our age…why'd they name you Edward?"

"Family name. They were obligated, and I wouldn't call it odd, thank you, I'd call it distinguished. But it is rare now days…I've only ever known one other Edward our age."

"Really? Who is he?"

"He actually just moved away before you came…charming motherfucker, too, but his dumb ass couldn't stay out of trouble. He got kicked out of the Academy and his father moved him to another Godforsaken small town."

"What did he do? To get kicked out?"

"I'll just say he had a thing for acquiring extra credit after class…with most of the female faculty."

"Shut up!"

"You shut up, Valley Girl. Anyway, he got tossed out—just as well, he was an angry son of a bitch who had preferences for cummings and Ducatis, but I liked him alright."

"Do you still talk to him?"

"Not as much…we AIM every once in a while, but he found new trouble in a new town, and instead of kicking him out of school, they sentenced him to Saturday detention. He met some chick in there he's become hopelessly devoted to..."

"He sounds sweet."

"You would think so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You just…you're always trusting the wrong people."

"That was cryptic."

"Forget it."

It was quiet for a few minutes and Edward's eyes fluttered closed again and that peaceful look fell onto his face…and that warm scent started to drift from him, and the hair at the crown of his head curled and landed any which way it pleased and when he was like this I just couldn't help myself.

I rolled to my side and kissed his ear, because in the past four days, things like that were liberties we'd become comfortable with.

There had yet to be, however, any second base action.

Not because I didn't want it—I did.

It's just- we both always hesitated, danced around it…

He lay still and I let my lips move back and forth lightly across the velvet skin of his earlobe, letting a soft lock of his wayward hair tickle my nose.

Like a fourteen-year-old, I decided abruptly that tonight I was going to second base, dammit.

I don't know if it was the cryptic warning spurring me on, or the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt and his chest was more beautifully sculpted than I anticipated, or if it was the fact that I was just ready…but suddenly I needed his hands on me.

I quickly sat up to my knees, making his eyes open.

"What the fuck—"

I pulled my sweatshirt over my head before his sentence finished.

Edward quickly got up to his knees we just kind of stared at each other for a few seconds.

My heart pounded and I was glad the room was so dim he wouldn't see the red in my cheeks.

I was glad the stereo played on; hopefully he wouldn't hear my nervous, hard breaths.

I was ready to grab my shirt and jump out of the window when at last one corner of his mouth turned up and he reached one hand out and let his finger graze my left nipple, making me gasp.

His smile spread and he did it again, with another feather-light touch.

"It's good," I breathed, shivering.

"Yeah…I can tell," he said, smirking down at my erect nipples.

Edward leaned in and lightly kissed my lips once, then palmed my tits in both of his hands, making me kind of hiss and whine at the same time.

He hadn't even barely started, and somehow his hands were the best I had ever felt on me.

My back arched, urging him to touch me more and he laughed low and quiet, his thumbs rubbing circles on my nipples.

"God, your tits are amazing," he mused in a gritty tone. "Bella…you know, I haven't felt real tits since ninth grade?"

This made me snap my head up.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. All of Forks Academy is all silicone or saline. Fuck, this is good, though. I miss this."

"But mine are so…small—compared to them," I said, suddenly self-conscious.

How was I supposed to compete with plastic surgery?

I wanted to put my shirt back on. I wanted to be covered—I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around his neck, so our chests were pushed together, so he couldn't see me.

I wasn't prepared for the shock of heat between us or for the reaction in my pants.

Second. Fucking. Base.

I took a shaky breath and rested my chin on his strong shoulder.

"Hey…" he whispered, probably knowing I was trying to hide.

So, I blurted out the first thing I could think of.

"When I was ten, I would actually beg my tits to grow. Out loud. I'd actually plead with them."

I expected the rumble of his deep laughter—which would only send me further into embarrassment hell spiral.

Instead, he shocked the hell out of me.

"The first time I jacked off I thought I broke my dick. I blew a load and I thought I busted the inside. No one ever told me that was supposed to happen."

I pressed my lips into his shoulder and the stereo clicked in silence, changing CDs.

This song I recognized.

_Drive_ by The Cars.

I drew a breath and decided to purge more.

"In the second grade, my class was incubating chick eggs and I turned the heat lamp all the way up. I knew I shouldn't…I just did it anyway. They all died and a few kids even cried. No one ever found out it was me. I've never told anyone that."

"The last time I cried I was fifteen and it was because I was listening to _Nobody Knows_ by The Tony Rich Project. I don't know why I cried, it's a shit song. I just did. No one knows that," Edward said.

"When I was a kid I wanted to be a CEO—of anything- because I read _Forbes_ in a doctor's office once, and it listed the highest paid female professionals…and I wanted to make a lot of money, because I wanted to make it up to Renee…because my whole life I could always just tell she resented me…for everything she lost when she chose to keep me."

Edward's arms tightened around my bare waist.

"I drink scotch not only because it's a fucking esteemed drink, but because that smell is the strongest memory I have of my mother. She's a fucking drunk, but no one's ever actually said it quite like that. Still, that's why I drink it."

I squeezed my eyes shut to fight the burn of tears and swallowed hard, preparing to speak the words I've always known but never said aloud.

"I am terrified that no matter what I achieve in life, no matter how hard I work for success or nobility, I'll always just be the taboo black mark on the Hotchkiss name. I will always be the bastard that ruined promising, bright Renee…and I don't want that to define me, Edward," I said, now fighting sobs.

"Bella," he sighed, and pulled me closer, so my legs wrapped around his waist and I put my face into his neck and we were crushed together, topless, nothing between us at all, in the middle of that bed.

I bit my quivering lip and let my nails dig into his back, not succeeding in keeping the tears at bay.

I listened to his even breathing and he didn't move at all.

He stayed very still, just like I needed him to.

He let my tears leak and slide on to his bare neck and shoulder, and he didn't say anything at all.

I let my eyes close and was aware we were rocking slightly in time to The Cars…the most ridiculous, stupid and fitting thing to be playing right now.

Edward started to hum while I tried to stop my unstable breaths.

And eventually they evened out…and like a small child, I fell asleep right there on his shoulder, with his hands splayed strong on my bare back and his low hum in my ear.

Three nights and no mention of my breakdown later, I was sitting beside Edward on his piano bench.

I hadn't regretted telling him the things I did; it wasn't awkward- it was more peaceful, actually. In fact, scarily enough, the only time I was fully at peace was when I could see his face or when I felt his heavy breathing on my neck while we slept.

There was a certain, unspoken understanding between us—except for right now.

Edward roughly positioned my fingers on the keys for the 2,768th time.

"Just play when I tell you to," he said.

"This isn't working," I complained. "This is stupid."

"You're the one who asked to learn," he shrugged.

It was true.

I asked him to teach me piano.

I'd been attempting the simple part of _Heart and Soul_ for forty-five minutes now.

He nodded his head and the second time my fingers plunked on the keys he winced.

"This shit is simple, Bella. I was playing this crap when I was two."

"Well, we're not all superior at everything, Edward," I snapped, letting my palm slam on the keys, sending an echoing thunder throughout the room.

"Don't fuck with the piano."

I did it again.

"Knock it off. Look, just try to—"

"I'm not getting it. I won't get it," I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Very mature," he muttered, then used the tip of one finger to shut the lid of the piano with a dense plop. He put one leg over the bench so he straddled it and turned toward me.

"Let me see your hands," he said.

I held out one hand and without touching it he inspected my fingers.

"You have stubby fingers."

"So what? Aren't there all kinds of little kid prodigies and whatnot?"

"Yeah, I was just trying to make you feel better. You just suck."

"Fuck you. Maybe you're just a shitty teacher."

He laughed.

"Bella, I'm not shitty at anything," he said, then stood up.

We were both on edge.

We were both frustrated and testy.

And I knew why.

The second base rule was eating us alive.

It was making us rude and irritable and frustrated.

"Fine…just give up on me," I sulked.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're acting like a bipolar baby."

"You're acting like an arrogant prick."

"News flash, darling. I _am_ an arrogant prick."

He turned on his bare foot and kicked the door open.

I huffed and went after him, holding the waist band of his soccer shorts I had taken to wearing for pajamas.

"Don't walk away from me," I hissed in the dark hallway.

"Grow the fuck up," he growled over his shoulder.

"Me? That's rich. And lower your voice. We don't want to wake Mommy. This isn't an approved slumber party."

He stopped abruptly, making me crash in to his back.

"The hell—"

But he spun me around so my back was pressed to the wall. On either side of my head he had a palm resting on the wall.

"Don't. Don't push it," he said, his left hand thumping the wall with each word.

All I could see was the exact spot where his thin white short-sleeve met the skin of his bicep.

I'm sure I wasn't meant to, but I liked his frustration.

Something fierce and scary was brewing between us…and I wanted it.

"Don't. Ever. Tell. Me. What. To. Do," I said, lowering my chin and pushing him further.

His eyes narrowed for half a second before he pushed off the wall and continued back down the hallway, to his room.

I stomped after him, not even mad, more just…wanting to be near him.

His shoulders were high and tense, his strides long and powerful….but I could see it wasn't me he was mad at, either. Just our situation.

We made it back to his room where he flipped the light on and dove on to his bed, then mumbled something before putting a pillow over his head.

"I'm leaving if you're going to hide from this," I said, because we both knew what the problem was.

What I was keeping from him and whatever he was keeping from me…it was stopping us.

He didn't move, so I grabbed my jeans from the floor and yanked the soccer shorts down—I'd go home. I couldn't be so close without being so close anymore and I was stupid to think I ever could.

I stepped out of his shorts and gasped when I felt his strong hand shoot out and grab my bare inner thigh.

"What?" I asked, my back to him, his hand squeezing my skin tightly.

"Don't go yet."

I froze and his hand kept squeezing and burning and it was too much—I had to go or I had to have something but before I could stumble forward, his hand moved down to the back of my knee and his palm shoved and I was sitting on the bed.

He looked up at me and his eyes were shadowed and dark and on fire and I wasn't going anywhere.

He leaned up and I leaned down and we crashed together all tongue and lips and wet.

I sank down as he raised up, his tongue flicking my lip, then his open mouth was on mine and somehow I was flat on my back and he was on top of me, heavy and everywhere.

My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms locked around his neck and these low gritty noises from him kept filling my mouth.

There was gasping and panicked, angry spurts of laughter, and groaning and swearing and lips and warm and rough—all surrounding us, spurring us on.

I was careful not to let my hands wander down his back or tangle in his hair—I just I wanted to hold him tightly to me so he wouldn't go anywhere.

His hands tore at the sheets on either side of me, he wasn't touching me with his hands and I couldn't quite tell if he was trying to get away from me or get closer but it didn't matter, I wasn't letting go.

I squeezed my legs tighter around him and lifted my hips and I finally felt him, directly over where I wanted him.

He was thick and hard and hot and I hated all the material between us.

Edward's head jerked up, making me break my grip.

His face was flushed and his lips were swollen and red and I wanted him back—I reached up and grabbed for his face, letting my nails sink in to his sharp jaw as I pulled myself up to kiss him.

He hissed through his teeth but let me kiss him anyway, then he was on his knees.

"Wha…" I uttered, breathless and hot and falling back on the mattress.

He put a tight grip on each of my bent knees and his eyes closed and he kind of shook his head.

"Edward…I don't…please, let's just not stop…just tonight," I said, close to frustrated tears.

His hands were off my knees and he scratched roughly at the back of his neck, a tortured, humorless smile playing on his lips.

"Just tonight…we don't even have to—"

His hands went to the sides of his head, balled in tight, restrained fists.

I inched down the bed with my knees up and my legs spread wide, my white underwear was damp and I wanted to take them off.

His fists went to the insides of my thighs, and he let his knuckles graze the skin there, softly at first, then more insistent, raising higher.

His eyes were closed, but the rest of his face looked prepared for a fight.

Tense and angry, set like stone.

I pensively inched down more, causing his fists to slide up; I needed his hands closer to where I wanted them.

His brow furrowed and he made a deep noise in the back of his throat, his knuckles brushing at the edges of my underwear.

Suddenly, his finger hooked in my underwear and held the damp material away from my skin, but his skin didn't touch mine.

We were both absolutely still, hovering between second and third base.

This was the worst game of pickle _ever_.

I watched his jaw tighten and his teeth dig into his lower lip, like he was fighting and contemplating his own body.

"Edward," I breathed, trying to urge him on. The torture was too much.

"Bella."

"Now, please…just…"

"If we…if I touch you like this—I won't stop."

"Do it."

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered, but I was sure he didn't expect an answer.

"Edward."

"Bella."

I thrust up without warning, letting myself get his finger wet with me, letting myself feel him.

Immediately, his hand made a fist around my underwear, but he didn't move away, so I thrust up again and again, rubbing myself on his still knuckles.

He didn't have to move.

He could just stay still…just like that, and I would do all the work myself.

I grinded and rocked on his still hand, my nails digging in to my palms, letting the wet burn between my legs grow and spread until all of me was consumed and just _on_.

"Fuck it," he spat, then finally two fingers slid inside and I smiled and shuddered, letting my butt fall back on the bed.

His eyes had opened and he was staring at the sight of his fingers inside of me- he looked hypnotized or maybe horrified—then the corner of his mouth turned up…

And then Edward Cullen showed me why he has the reputation he does.

His fingers and palm were hot and in every perfect spot at the same time.

"Oh my god," I wheezed in an embarrassing mewl—it's just, I've never felt the way I felt just then.

On the brink of everything and dying to fall over the edge, but knowing it would kill me when it was over…because his hands were just too good to ever give up.

My eyes rolled back and he laughed—now that he was resigned to this, he was smug.

"Give it up, Bella…"

"Unnn—" I responded, my head thrashing wildly from side to side.

"Come on, Bella. Give it up for me."

My legs clamped around his hand, holding him in place and I heard the distinct sound of shifting material.

I couldn't be bothered to open my eyes and look until I heard a growl from him.

He'd untied the drawstring on his sweats, and with his other hand he was stroking his thick length, still working me with his other hand.

His eyes met mine and we didn't smile or sneer, we just stared.

The sight of him, seeing him for the first time made my breathing stop.

"God, Edward…" I moaned, my hips bucking into his hand and it took all of my restraint to keep my eyes open and focused on him.

Edward's head tossed back; his Adam's Apple bobbed with each short, sharp grunt…and now that I couldn't see his eyes, I watched his hand, how he was touching himself.

Long, swift strokes over and over and then his thumb lightly rubbed over the head of his dick…

And I came.

Hard and loud and more intensely than I ever had before.

My legs kicked and my body twisted in the rumpled sheets until I was sweating and exhausted and all of the jerking and heaven had stopped.

I listened to my breathing and let myself feel the giddy lightheadedness and Edward's hand slipped out from me, my underwear snapping back into place.

I sat up to my elbows and all I saw was the thick bronze hair, shiny and matted with sweat.

He had bowed his head and his strokes were coming faster.

I watched the muscles in his stomach jerk and roll; he straightened up on his knees a tiny bit more…

Yes.

He was going to…

He raised his head and looked up at me. His lips parted and he clenched all over.

"Oh shit! Bella—move…"

"Huh?" I mumbled, dazed and high.

I jerked when I felt a smattering of warm wet on my chin and neck.

With the back of my hand I wiped my chin and looked.

Oh.

I looked back up at Edward.

His green eyes were wide and I stared back.

Then his shoulders started to shake and his chest heaved—he was trying not to laugh.

And then I was howling and bursting with wild cackles and giggles.

He let his pent-up laughter rip from his chest and we sat there, relieved and free and satisfied and happy.

Our breakthrough had us giddy and silly, laughing like fools on our bed, our safe little home…and it was then that I knew it for sure.

Someone had to lose.

I was in love.

AN: ah. Ok. Sorry about the mention of Saturday School Edward—we just couldn't help it.

Wtvoc says: I'm not sorry at all. That was fucking funny and golden. Jandco completes me. She just does.

She also makes me totally horny, but what else is new?


	11. Chapter 12

**hello, little reindeer wranglers?**

**two updates from us in one day?**

**lucky you. merry merry!**

**i hope yer reading our contest stuff. a little sumpin' sumpin' to getcha going on this lovely christmas vacation...**

**and of course, some scotchy edward.**

**Edward**

It's one thing to want to touch what you can't or shouldn't have.

It's another thing to covet it.

And it's yet another thing to actually… I don't want to utter it. Naming the evil only makes it real.

I cannot believe what a fucking pansy I'm turning into.

I, of course, blame Rosalie Hale. For setting the stupid challenge.

The challenge. The damned bet. I want out. I just do.

But how to bow out gracefully from a bet that I could probably win with a phone call?

Especially since I refuse to sleep with Bella under gambling circumstances. That shit ain't right.

I can sit here and pretend I don't know why it ain't right; I can try to convince myself that I've grown and matured and have finally turned into a decent human being after years of neglect toward my ethics and morality. Gambling over someone's body? Wow. What a jerky, disgusting motherfucker I've turned out to be; I have decided to amend my ways. _Sure_.

But no. That's not why. I am still disgusting. If I weren't, I would have told Bella about the bet the minute I realized I wanted out.

The thing is- I'm holding back. And I think the reason I'm holding back is because she is, too.

I know enough about her to sense that not only does she desperately want to fuck me, but that there's a reason she isn't doing it.

Call me childish, but I'm not going to be the first to give. No matter how much I want to.

And I can't tell her about the bet. I just can't.

Not yet, anyway.

So that leaves us with Edward Cullen, sick, manipulative bastard. Edward Cullen, connoisseur of cunt-

-who has feelings for a _girl_.

A woman. Whatever. For Bella.

I refused to face these feelings. Acknowledging they exist is enough, thanks.

But they were getting harder to ignore.

Every time I saw her, I wanted her to come over and stand with me.

Every time Jasper sidled up and pulled her to his side or planted a kiss on the part of her hair, I wanted to slap the toothpick right off of his stupid lip.

Every time Newton glared at her from across the courtyard, I wanted to beat the stupid poorly knotted tie off of his neck.

I just… I was fucking done. I didn't want to share her with anyone.

This is a problem.

Not helping matters at all were Rosalie and Alice, who seemed to be everywhere all of a sudden.

After that first night that Bella urged me to steal third, things had spiraled for the better. Or the worse, depending on your world view.

We woke up, limbs entangled, her not wearing anything except my boxers and a skimpy tank top. We weren't cuddling, but we were pressed up against each other, her hair in my face and I didn't care one bit that it was choking me. I had smiled, and the smile turned into muffled laughter because I remembered that I had fucking jizzed on her damned chin. And she had laughed about it. What the hell kind of girl laughs at that shit? She wasn't offended or horrified or even bothered by it- and that's when I realized that Isabella Swan just was not like anyone else out there.

I reluctantly pulled away from her warmth and admired the breast that had escaped the confines of the almost shirt she was wearing; I seriously had to resist the urge to touch because we would just be late for class again. I showered and was at the bathroom shaving when she slithered in behind me, wrapping her arms around my torso and tugging at the towel I had fastened around my waist. I winced when I shaved over my chin; she had somehow clawed into my jaw and it had left purple scrapes in my skin.

"Oh, shit. Did I do that?" Her brow furrowed and she roughly turned me to face her, placing her freezing ass hands on my chin, which actually felt fucking good. I grinned lazily down at her.

"It's only fair. You marked me, and I got you back. Not permanently, but still."

She playfully shoved my shoulder and I grabbed her wrists, looking down into her eyes. She was holding her breath, and I couldn't tell why. She had mascara smudged under her eyes and her lips were swollen and chapped. She looked delicious. Oh, shit. She had a fucking _hickey_ under the strap of her tank top. Sometimes I forget myself. Oops.

Her hair was wild and unbrushed and she seriously needed to shower. I reached out and traced around the hickey, hooking my finger under the thin strap to move it.

"Sorry. I guess I did leave a permanent mark," I said, and she looked down to where I was massaging.

"You fucker. I haven't had a hickey since the eighth grade." But she was grinning up at me. We stared at each other for a few seconds, then she grabbed my disposable razor and I held my breath as she indicated with it for me to turn my head. I looked up and to the left and tried not to gasp as she slowly scraped at the scruff under my chin; right at the jugular. The girl could cut me, but I knew she wouldn't. She was careful like that.

"There. Smooth as your scotch," she whispered, running her cold fingertips across my jaw. I grabbed her hand, bringing it up to the scratch marks on the other side. Her eyes widened as I leaned in toward her.

"Seriously, Swan. Your circulation sucks, but at least the cold helps with the damned brand you left on my face," I grinned, and she jerked her hand back, slapping me on my bare chest.

"Get dressed, Cullen. You have underclassmen to order around and I have boys to tease."

The days that followed sucked.

I couldn't stop thinking about her. I didn't want to. I had taken to throwing things at her in class, kicking her chair. Grabbing her ass when we passed in the hall. Normal Edward things, but this time I wasn't doing them to annoy her and keep up my asshole image. I did them because I just couldn't fucking help myself. I craved her attention.

Problem.

We were at a stalemate now; a wonderful holding pattern that I desperately wanted to break. And she was equally frustrated, too. We both knew there was this thing, this issue. I knew what _mine_ was, and I needed to know her deal, too.

But for the first time in recent memory- I was _scared_. Scared to ask. Scared to admit. To own up to my status as a dirtbag. I wasn't sure if it was because I couldn't stand the look of repulsion on her face when I told her about the bet- or if it was because I was afraid she wouldn't be the least bit surprised that I had entered into such an arrangement.

So I decided to take the chickenshit way out- and did nothing. Well, nothing about the bet and the stalemate.

Because I was doing things. Hot, delicious, fingery things. To her. To myself. I don't think I've ever had such a winning streak of sexual activity- not every night activity, anyway.

Nor do I think I've ever denied myself a good fuck for such a long stretch. It had been ten days at this point. Ten days of touching her, of making her come long and loud and hard. Ten days of the best handjobs I will ever have.

We hadn't even gone oral yet. We had somehow agreed without discussing it that that would complicate things too much.

The fact that I devoted this much time to not eating pussy was fucking with my head. And it was making me sloppy.

It was my day to pick Bella up, and we were almost late because she was wearing a skirt and those Docs and she had to fucking show me that she was wearing a new pair of low-slung boy shorts and I just _lost_ it. I mean, the Caddy is automatic and all, so of course I let my fingers wander while driving. But when she reclined the seat and propped her foot up on it, bending her knee and spreading both legs wide for me, I almost ran off the road. She had one hand in her hair, the other pressed against the window and she was sighing, biting her lip as I lightly ran my fingers up and down, touching feather-light and strumming along to the guitar of _Blackbird_ while her hips pulsed with the beat. Her breathing was heavy and her eyes were closed; she had a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and I could see her cumface on its way, so I pulled over so that I could focus on it. She came silently, and I strummed relentlessly, slipping around and around but never in until she had to move my hand, her hips jerking away as she laughed.

"Knock it off, Cullen. You know it's too sensitive right after. You're too talented for your own fucking good," she said, slipping her new underwear off the one knee it had been wrapped around and tucking it into the breast pocket of my blazer.

"Don't you think you'll need those? The last thing I need today is to see Emmett play his up-the-skirt grabass game and to have me punch him. I mean, the guy's bigger than me, but I can't have that shit happening under my watch," I grumbled, trying to stifle the smile that I knew was creeping up my face. I knew she had been all wet before I even started massaging her thigh, so knowing that I'd be able to smell her whenever I wanted all day just made me fucking _happy_.

"Relax, Edward. I've been deflecting the unwanted advances of the male gender since I turned twelve and got tits. I can keep Emmett away from my ass for one day," she said, flipping the visor down to check her face. Like it needed to be fixed. She was perfect. Orgasms were very flattering for her complexion. She looked like a fucking painting.

"We're gonna be late. Let's motor," she said, snapping the visor back in place and turning to me. I kept staring and she looked away, self-conscious.

"What?" she whispered, almost to herself. But of course I didn't answer.

And so things went.

We got to school just as everyone was walking to class, and she made excuses about me being late and I in turn blamed Mommy, and no one thought anything was up. So far, so good.

Until just before lunch when Bella passed by me in the lunch line, patting my breast pocket and then smacking my ass, hard. I looked over my shoulder and grinned at her, and that's when I noticed that Jasper was standing at our table, watching our little exchange. He had that stupid freaking toothpick balanced on the tip of his tongue, flicking it from side to side. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and his hands were shoved in his pockets, jiggling his keys and my wallet chain. His head cocked to the side as he watched us interact, but Bella didn't notice and walked over to him, throwing her arms around his waist and looking up at him. He looked down at her and put his palms on her shoulders; he leaned forward and whispered something in her ear, and she giggled- and I bristled. Couldn't help it. He looked up and met my stare, and I realized- he was doing it on purpose. Gauging my reaction.

Fuck.

I'd have to really watch it in the future.

Easier said than done.

That day, we had soccer practice, and I was completely distracted by Bella sitting with a bunch of girls; she had gotten some freshmen to drag a bench over to the fence so they could sit while watching us play. It amazed me that in all the years of the girls coming to watch us practice, none of them had ever thought to use their tits to get some guys to bring them a seat. Of course, the enterprising young Miss Swan was the one to break from the mold. That's my girl.

I kept missing passes because I was staring. I couldn't refrain. She was just so cute sitting there, trying to not be annoyed by the inane chatter that I'm sure was pouring from Jessica and Lauren's naughty little mouths.

"Oi! Cullen! Watch your shit!" Jasper was trying to be smooth. Of course the girls were eating it up. Dick.

"If you'd pass worth a damn, I'd pay attention, bitch," I growled, kicking the ball straight at him. He caught it neatly, and I simply turned and walked off the field.

"Hey, bitch. Wait up. Seriously." Jasper had caught up to me, and he wouldn't have kept up if his legs weren't as long as mine. He reached into his shirt and pulled out two cloves, sticking them both on his lip and lighting them before handing me one. Fucking cloves.

"Thanks, Captain," I sneered, inhaling and enjoying the burn. I saw Bella follow the two of us with her eyes from the corner of mine, but I decided not to make eye contact yet. Jasper and his all-seeing gaze would definitely catch that.

"What's with you lately?" he asked as we entered the locker room. I chucked the half-smoked clove at the trash can, enjoying the rain of sparks as it hit the wall before skidding off and rolling into a puddle. The sizzle hissed through the air, and I flipped my shirt off, ignoring the question.

"Edward. You can tell me. Is it…" But he didn't finish. I think we both knew what he was going to say. The fact that he didn't finish his sentence worried me. He seemed to cotton on pretty damned quickly that something was going on between me and Bella, and he'd normally congratulate me on hitting that shit, about being the first.

But he didn't. And I knew that he and Bella were especially close. Did he know things?

Did she confide in him?

Fuck, I hope not. If he ever found out about the bet, he'd be pissed. I mean, I knew he was in love with Alice and all that, but he simply didn't stand a chance. And while it might hurt him if I fucked her, I also knew he wouldn't hold it against me. He knew what I was like. He knew what I did.

While it was comforting that my best friend was cool like that, it had never bothered me until just then that our way was just _fucked up_.

I guess that means I'm fucking maturing or something.

"I've got stuff on my mind, is all," I responded, somewhat lamely. He raised his eyebrows at me before turning to go to the shower. It's not like we told each other everything before braiding each other's hair and exchanging friendship bracelets, but we _always_ talked about girls. Always.

As he turned to walk into the shower, I could feel a chink in our friendship armor.

Over a girl. This is definitely serious.

When I left the locker room, Bella and the other girls were nowhere to be found, and that just made me grumpy. There were always girls waiting. I guess we took too long. And I needed to sort some shit out, but Bella wasn't there.

I sped home, hoping to find her waiting. It was a bit early for our time, but I sort of wanted her to be able to sense that I needed to talk and mess around. I knew it would make me feel better. I just… needed her to be there.

I of course was waylaid by Tanya, who insisted that I eat a good, healthy dinner. She laid out a plate with all four food groups represented, insisting I eat up.

Then Carlisle called, and I had to endure some lame fucking lecture about my physics boat and how I'd better not knock up the Chief's daughter. My father can be such a tool sometimes. Like father, like son.

Finally, finally, I was headed upstairs, fucking exhausted and sore. My lungs hurt from Jasper's new fetish, my liver hurt because I just hadn't needed to drink lately, my muscles hurt because I had been taking my aggression out on the field, and well- my brain hurt from thinking and my heart hurt because I knew something was coming, something big. And hell, I'll admit. I was freaking scared about the big thing- I didn't know if it was going to be awful or awesome.

Honestly, it was quite thrilling. All these organ aches, and my body knew that there was one thing that would make the hurt go away.

Thrilling and fucking _scary_.

I opened the door to my bedroom, and I saw her form on my bed, curled up in a ball. Thank Christ.

"I'm glad you're fucking here. I've had a helluva day," I said, practically ripping my shirt off.

"What the fuck took you so long?" I froze. Not the voice I was expecting. I flipped the light switch.

"How the hell did you get in here, Rosalie?" My eyes glanced at the window- it was open, but not enough to have let her in.

"Mama Bear Cullen, Silly. You know she loves me. And who did you think it was?"

I ignored that.

"So Rosalie. What the hell can I do for you?" I had to go about my business like I would before. It no longer mattered to me that Rosalie Hale was on my bed. She had sort of become undesirable to me. I mean, she was still hotter than hell. Possibly more beautiful than Bella. But the girl had an ugly soul. And in this odd journey of mine, in discovering that I could be with a chick and actually care about what her mind was like, I had come to discover that that shit was _important_.

Ah, hell. One of these days, I'd get truly pissed at Bella for that. Maybe. I was too young to quit playing the field. Wasn't I?

"I came to gauge your dedication to the bet, Mr. Cullen," she purred, getting up on her knees and moving toward me. I had started to get undressed and was down to my boxers. I looked around warily for my jeans, but of course Mommy had already put my clothes away. I made a move to get a new pair from my closet, but Rose stopped me by putting her hands on my shoulders. She was warm and I could smell her Chanel and well, I couldn't help it. Edward Cullen's body reacts to the female form.

"Hmm. It's good to know that you're still happy to see me, Eddie. I was afraid that hanging out with the impertinent Miss Swan would start to affect you. Every good male specimen goes through their slumming it phase, and well. I hope it just doesn't ruin you." She was leaning toward me, shooting her sexy smile and swaying her hips. I must say, if I were in any state of mind other than the one of Bella-induced euphoria lately then I probably would've thrown her down and laid out over her, just to give her a taste of what she was missing. But I was just too fucking tired, and I needed to see Bella. Who would probably be climbing my newly-cleared trellis any minute now. Shit. I needed Rosalie to leave.

"The bet is still on. Like I said- personal challenge. And she's quite challenging, I can assure you. It's like she doesn't want to fuck me, which is annoying," I said, pulling away from her slightly so I could look into her eyes. I didn't necessarily want to see what was in them, but I needed to know that she didn't suspect anything. I still had yet to figure out how I was going to get out of the bet, and the last thing I needed was the vengeful Hale to get angry at me. The last time Rosalie got pissed at a male, Chief Swan had to arrest the guy for date rape. So annoying, and his parents were quite embarrassed.

"Good. I'm looking forward to you collecting, I must say," she murmured, reaching down to make sure I was still interested. Which, unfortunately, it appeared that I was. She lightly fingered through the thin material of my boxers, and I shifted a bit, annoyed that I liked it so much. Where the fuck is Bella?

Rose leaned up and kissed my chin before hopping up and off my bed.

"Ta," she said, blowing a kiss over her shoulder, her manicure glimmering as she waggled her fingertips at me. I shot her a fake smirk and waited for the door to shut before I raced over to the window, opening it up further for Bella. I didn't want her to have to struggle opening it.

She never showed.

The next day, she didn't come to school.

Nor the day after.

I was kind of going into a mild panic mode.

I know I could have called, but I just didn't.

I still had my pride.

But by Friday, when Emmett showed up _sans_ Bella… I started to worry.

Time to swallow that pride of mine.

I drove to her house. The Chief was gone, which was a good thing. Her barely functioning truck was half on the lawn, half on the driveway. I walked up and tried the door, but it was locked. I looked for the key, but it was missing. Puzzled, I walked around the house and noticed there were no lights on. Praying to the Gods of obsessed teenaged boys, I climbed the tree outside her bedroom window and looked in, but she wasn't there.

What's more- she had moved her dresser right in front of the window.

The message was clear. I was not wanted.

Fuck.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After spending yet another miserable night alone, I was awakened by a cacophony of sound coming from downstairs. Seems like Mommy was hollering at the help again. I rolled over and grabbed my phone- eight new texts. One from Jasper_- Where were you last night, Bitch_?- I had missed one of Emmett's poker parties- and seven from girls who were also looking for me.

No Bella.

I pressed my palms into my eyes, knowing they'd be red all day. While I _had_ slept, it had been restless and full of weird dreams. I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since she was here.

I needed her back, if only so I could get my beauty rest.

I finally decided that if she didn't show tonight, I would call her.

The yelling downstairs was makings its way up, and I realized that it was headed in my direction.

There were two distinct sets of females hollering; one was Mommy. But the other was definitely _not_ the help.

Suddenly grinning, I hopped out of bed and jumped to my closet, grabbing the nearest pair of jeans and hopping into them, eager to get to the hallway.

I looked up when my door was tossed open, relief plain in my expression at the beautiful woman standing in the doorway.

Tanya was behind her in one of her ridiculous 50s-era playboy bunny froofy see-through housecoats, her shiny satin pajamas dulling in comparison to the glowing face in front of it.

"Darling," my mother called, stepping forward to embrace me. God, she smelled good. I don't care how old you are, sometimes you just need a hug from your mother to feel instantly better.

"Mother. You look wonderful," I said, stepping back. She was dressed in her standard crisp slacks and blouse, hundred-year-old heirloom pearl necklace and matching earrings, and large canary diamond adorning her right hand. She never remarried; never would again. After Carlisle the philanderer broke her heart, Mother vowed to never be hurt again. Now she spent her time on permanent vacation with her flavor of the year.

"How's Rinaldo? How's _La Cote D'Azur_?" I asked, linking arms with her while Tanya glowered. She had to move aside as the two of us floated out the door and down the stairs. We chatted happily, Tanya trailing in our wake like the dilapidated little rowboat she was.

"Tsk, tsk. Look at this place. It's like the Liberace Museum had a liquidation and She just went for broke," my mother clucked, fully aware that Tanya was turning all shades of purple behind us. She was referring to the ridiculous candelabra that was adorning my downstairs Baby Grand and the weird textured velvet curtains in the living room.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what are you doing here? Didn't you vow only to return if and only if the Historical Society decided to tear down that monstrosity of a Civil War monument outside of town limits?" We were ignoring Tanya, who was fluttering around, picking up the stray Glamours and empty martini glasses. That Mommy sure does love her Cosmos.

"Oh, I've been hearing the odd rumor about this hometown of mine, and it seems like a happening place again. An old friend of mine is in town, and I figured it was time to see how Forks is faring in my absence," she explained, helping herself to an espresso that Tanya had started. Grimacing, she muttered something about "inferior fucking French Roast" and dropped the little white cup in the sink.

"Come, darling. Let's do lunch. I would love for you to meet my dearest friend; she's wonderful. We're going to the Horatio."

"The Horatio? She must be important. I'll just go change. Give me five minutes."

"Hurry, darling. I don't want to keep her waiting. I'm rather excited to see her again. It's been ages."

I was very eager to meet this alleged friend of my mother's. While everyone in town knew Esme Masen-Cullen, not everyone was important enough to be labeled her "friend". "Acquaintance", perhaps, or even "Kissing Cousin". But rarely "Friend". My mother was of the oldest family in Forks, the founding family. "The Horatio" was the hotel named after my Great-Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather Horatio Masen, the founder of our town. Carlisle may have been the town's favorite Man Whore, but my mother was the town's Reigning Royalty. Everyone wanted to be like her, and she generally met with ass kissery of the most blatant kind whenever she walked into a joint. I knew I would eventually enjoy the same level of brown-nosing, but for now, I was content to be the town's hottest boy.

I decided that anyone who impressed my mother was worth impressing, so I decided to go the debonair son route. This was exactly what I needed to get my mind off of Bella. I could flirt with the woman- Lord knows old broads responded well to my flirting. Hell, all I really had to do was flash that half-smile of mine and smolder a little bit and they got all wet. Some slip me their numbers; some offer their daughters up on a silver plate. It would get worse once I was out of high school, I just knew it.

I put on a blood-red Marc Jacobs button-up and some dark blue jeans, leaving the top button undone and rolling up my sleeves. I threw on my old beat-up black Chucks, just to remind everyone how young I was. Rubbing my hands through my unwashed hair, I decided I looked just tousled and tasty enough to charm the Chanel pantsuit off of whatever Lady Who Lunches it was that my mother was so excited to meet with.

I skipped down the stairs and offered my arm to my mother who beamed up at me. She really looked great- ironic that she had married a double board certified plastic surgeon and she never needed anything more than her La Mer and copious amounts of sunscreen. The woman did not look her thirty-eight years; it still annoyed the piss out of me that my father had traded her many times over for a younger woman each time. I wondered if the mystery friend was my mother's age; I hoped so. Sitting across from a botox'ed old bat would most likely gross me out and make it harder to practice my outrageous raillery.

Esme led us out to the garage and took out the keys to Carlisle's baby- his vintage Porsche. Ohh, he would be pissed. I loved it. She had bought him that car for their first anniversary. It had less than ten thousand miles on it, and I was always reminded of Ferris Bueller whenever he drove it. He had never allowed me behind the wheel, and I felt a thrill of anticipatory excitement for the day. I had nearly forgotten how much fun it was to be with my mother, and I vowed that I would visit her in Europe soon. She walked and talked with the air of a person used to getting her way, and I suddenly realized that _she_ was where I got my sense of entitlement from. I could only hope I'd pull it off with the grace she did, and possibly grow out of the whole snooty jerk thing.

For now, I was content with my status as a spoiled asshole.

I opened the driver's door for her, knowing that even with Mother in town, Carlisle would not be happy with me driving his baby. She smiled and slid in gracefully, revving the engine and expertly tapping her pointed shoe on the gas; smoothly pulling out of the garage, we made our way into the center of town. Esme parked at the beginning of Main Street, and I rushed out to open her door again. Making sure she was on the inside of the sidewalk, I held her arm as we strolled down Main. She was big on me being a gentleman like that, and I didn't mind it one bit.

She tipped her head at the various greetings we got; it was like the owners of the little shops went out of their way to appear obsequious to the Doyenne of the Forks Elite. It simultaneously amused and annoyed me. Especially since I had fooled around with most of the daughters of said shop owners at one point or another since the fifth grade.

Finally, I spotted the ridiculous bronzed statue of my ancestor in front of the hotel named after him; one of the oldest buildings in Forks, it looked like a transplant from an old Southern Plantation, what with the bricks and the columns gracing the front. Horatio Masen had come from Virginia, seeking to spread the family's wealth and influence in the great unknown Pacific Northwest. Which he did, in spades. A small town folk hero, and the original Entitled A-Hole, if you listen to old family tales. I believed every one of them.

We didn't own the hotel, but we might as well have. As we strolled in, carefree and beautiful, the staff all came to attention. They always kowtowed to me whenever I went in, but with my mother in tow, they practically scraped the floor with their bowing and faux adulation.

We were ushered to a table by the big front window overlooking the fountain and rose garden; two double scotches were brought to our table without our having asked. They certainly knew their patrons here at The Horatio.

"So, darling. Tell me. Your father mentioned that you have a girlfriend, which seems to have been confirmed by the Playmate of the Year when she suggested I shouldn't interrupt you and your guest this morning," my mother said crisply, knocking her drink back in one smooth, practiced motion. I winced slightly; my mother was always well-informed of my activities and proclivities. Sometimes I told her, sometimes Carlisle filled her in.

"No girlfriend, Mother. As you saw, no overnight guests, either," I said, sipping my scotch. I wasn't quite ready to start with the heavy drinking again, and something told me I'd need to keep my wits about me for this maternal visit. I wasn't ready to tell her about Bella, either. Especially since I didn't know where we stood these days.

"Well, good. You're much too young to tie yourself down, anyway. Sow your oats and all that other jazz; I'd probably tear down any of the unworthy women who would attempt to steal your heart, anyway. Besides, something tells me you're not worth it yet, darling. No offense. You simply have too much of your father in you." That stung, Mother. Hell, she was right. She always is.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom." She hated colloquialisms like "Mom", but she kind of deserved it. I was her baby boy, after all.

Another round of drinks was brought over, and my mother knocked another one back while continuing to chatter happily about the places she'd been and the next round of gifts she was planning on sending my way. My mind started to wander slightly. A girl with long, dark hair whipped around the corner, and for a half second I was reminded of Bella, which just made me lose track of my mother's conversation altogether. Trying to focus on Mother's words, I became aware of a gorgeous woman entering the front lobby of the hotel; it had started to drizzle outside and she shook her head, sending a spray from her shoulder-length hair all over the place and earning looks of disapproval from the employees scattered about the lobby. She took off her coat and I took in her slender figure. She was seriously hot for an older woman. She looked familiar, too; she must be someone's mom. I must find out whose so that I could-

"Oh, for Pete's sake. Can't you ever be on time?" My mother had stood up and was stretching her arms out; the fact that she embraced the new hottie, damp clothes and all, was a testament to how much my mother liked her. The staff noticed Esme Masen-Cullen embracing the stranger and was on her in a heartbeat, asking for her drink order.

"Esme Masen, you look fucking fantastic, as per usual," she exclaimed, her rich voice making my entire body stand at attention. Shit, man. It wouldn't be tough for me to flirt at all. Everything about this woman was making me sit up and take notice. She had these deep, amazingly dark eyes with a beautiful frame of lashes and a light spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. I smiled at her, making sure that it was the half-smile the girls all claimed to be crazy for. I even raked my hand through my hair, letting her know that I cared not about my appearance.

"Charming as always, darling. This is my son, Edward."

"I was going to say 'what the fuck happened to Rinaldo?', but I should have known better. He looks like Carlisle in the body, but that's a Masen face if I ever saw it. Nice to meet you, Edward. You look like fun," she said, turning her brown eyes my way and sucking me in. Jesus. I needed to take a breath and regain control of the situation. Something about the way she said my name made my body _tingle_.

"Edward, this is my dearest friend that I've been telling you about. Renee Hotchkiss."

Fuck. Me. Long and Hard.

"Miss Hotchkiss. I've heard much about you." I reached out and clasped both of her hands between mine, making eye contact and thinking _fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_.

"The least you could do was wait for me, mom," I heard behind me, and I froze completely.

"Well, honey. You took too fucking long picking out which manly boots to wear, and you know how impatient I get. I'd like you to meet my friend and her son. You guys probably know each other, but I don't want that to stop you." _Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit_.

"Bella's got an antiestablishment stance on life, but that never stops her from ensnaring every male within spitting distance," Renee mock-whispered behind her hand. My mother chuckled, respond similarly with "Just like her mother. And my Edward's never met a female he didn't like, yet he still finds himself above everyone." Renee responded with, "Just like his mother." Thanks for the cool appraisal, ladies.

"Edward, Bella? Do you two know each other?"

Only in the Biblical sense, Miss Hotchkiss.

Well, almost.

**ahh, i do love edward getting biblical. **


	12. Chapter 13

**Okay, so, a few people pm'd and inquired about the chapter, and I wrote them that it was done…and it was. Then I scrapped it and started over. So sorry it took so long, but it just wasn't right…but, I will be posting the scrapped chapter under Tanqueray, Tonic and other assorted Cocktales.**

**This took forfreakingever…I hope it's okay…or rather I hope it's perfect as it is a gift for Capricorn75, and she deserves perfection…I MISS YOU CAPPIE!!!**

**wtvoc says: qjmom is right. best. chapter. ever. jandco does bella.**

**Bella**

I blinked like an idiot at my mother's question.

Do Edward and I know each other?

I knew he was brilliant on the piano and that he has a green toothbrush.

I knew he kicked the covers off in his sleep and the exact length of his dick.

I knew he missed his mother the way one can kind of miss chronic pain once it fades.

I knew his favorite songs and his talent for shadow puppets and that if he doesn't have dinner by 6:30 he gets cranky.

I knew the taste of his tongue and his gravelly morning whispers and what kind of shampoo he used.

I knew that Rosalie Hale had been in his bed days ago…

Turns out I didn't know him at all.

"Is this some kind of silent protest, Bella? When Bella was in the sixth grade, she wanted to protest broccoli in general and—"

"Not a protest," I smiled, pulling out my chair to sit.

"Well…then…do you know Edward, here?" Renee asked again, her eyes roaming over him.

"Not at all," I said flatly, reaching for the glass of water in front of me, keeping my eyes anywhere but on Edward.

"You've never seen each other around—at school?" Renee pressed, disappointment obvious in her voice, and I was suddenly glad she was only visiting. "I thought for sure you two would know each other—"

"Well, mom, I would've thought the same thing. But we don't."

I heard the distinct sound of ice crushing in Edward's mouth but couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with him.

"Well, you should get to know each other. He's positively beautiful, by the way, Esme," Renee said, forgetting me and talking to Edward's mom like we weren't even there.

"I know," Esme said, and I was sure to keep my focus on her, only seeing Edward's shoulder. "He's the best thing that came from my marriage. Well, him and the satisfaction of being the first of Carlisle's many wives."

"I heard he married Tanya Denali," Renee said, her eyes lit up, leaning in toward Esme.

"He did, and good god—this one's a fantastic mess—"

"Didn't you babysit her?"

"For my girl scout community service badge," Esme laughed. "Anyway, the child has awful taste. You should see what she's done to my house."

I stared at the silver on the table while they bashed Tanya, then Victoria and the other three wives whose names I didn't catch.

I let my fingertip glide around the rim of my water glass, trying not to laugh or cry at the irony of my current situation.

The night I came to Edward's window and saw Rosalie My-arch-nemesis-and-bane-of-my-existence-and-reason-for-sexual-frustration-pretentious-princess-twisted-psycho-bitch-in-cashmere Hale in Edward's room, on our sacred bed touching his junk— my territory— fuck—

That night, after I cried and kicked and swore and reconciled myself to the fact that I had been played, that I had fallen in love with the school slut, that I had opened myself up to the one person I never should have trusted— fuck—

That night I did the only thing I could think to do.

I called my mom.

That's right, I called my mom and cried to her about my broken heart and how I was broken all over and I spilled every minute detail about Edward and Rosalie and how none of these people were genuine and everyone was out to backstab.

And Renee's response?

"I'm coming to Forks."

I was beyond shocked; my mother hadn't been in Forks since she was four months pregnant with me. I insisted she didn't have to come, and she insisted that she did.

Renee told me she had to come to teach me how to survive, Forks style. She muttered something about knowing summer polishing camp wouldn't be enough and then she mumbled something about heartless cold bastards hurting her baby.

She told me she'd be on the next flight and not to worry…Mom was coming home.

When she arrived and I begged her not to make me go to school, she waved Charlie's disapproving looks off and told me I didn't have to go back until I was prepared…whatever that meant…but she understood.

My mother was raised in this Forks world, but she also lived in the world I knew so well…she knew how awful these people could be, she knew how to tell who was trustworthy and who was not. She knew how to work these corrupt social networks…

So I'd spent the better part of the week not listening while Renee lectured me on how to closet my vices and which fork to use for my salad and why you should never actually fall for a Forks Academy boy…unless of course you have more money or were higher up on the economic ladder than him.

But for all of her efforts, I couldn't possibly walk into that school and see Edward...or Rosalie.

Ever again.

I told her I was done, I wanted to come home to Arizona. She promptly informed me Arizona was as boring as ever and I could have fun here, if I learned how to play by their rules. What she didn't understand was that I didn't want to understand their rules- I didn't want to learn to be a cold, calculating bitch—I just wanted out.

I was humiliated—they were no doubt laughing behind my back at how easy it had been to fuck with the new girl.

I was nauseated every time I thought of her fingers on him- and the fact that he'd probably had his hands all over her- every minute I wasn't in his bed.

My lip trembled each time I thought of them laughing at all the things I'd told Edward, every insecurity I'd had, every secret part of myself I'd foolishly exposed to him.

A good education wasn't worth the humiliation, and it certainly wasn't worth my integrity. I wouldn't become one of them, cruel and twisted and disaffected just to succeed. I just wouldn't.

So at the end of the week when Renee announced we had a lunch date with a dear old friend of hers and her son, I scoffed at my mother.

"You want to set me up with someone?" I'd accused acidly. "You just said never—"

"I didn't say fall in love with the kid, Bella! I just hear he's absolutely gorgeous and what better way to get over a broken heart than to roll around with an absolutely gorgeous boy? And this one has prestige. I'm certain he has more clout around here than the bastard who broke your heart."

"I don't want an absolutely gorgeous boy—I want—"

"Then you just tag along and watch me flirt."

It was roughly around that time that I fully understood why my mother had the reputation she did.

Finally, she threatened to make me go back to the Academy that Monday if I didn't go to her damn cougar lunch date.

She won.

So here I sit.

"Well, frankly, I'm just glad Edward seems to have more sense than his father when it comes to women," Esme said. "He knows better than to be committed to any of them. Carlisle pays a fortune in alimony. My boy is learning a good lesson from watching his father. Love them and leave them, but never commit. It's financial suicide."

I bit my lip to keep from sneering, though I had to admit to myself that she knew her son well.

"Well, this seems like an unlikely friendship," I said, trying to steer the conversation away from Edward's commitment issues.

I didn't need to be crying before the salad arrived.

Edward snorted and my eyes instinctively darted to him.

Bad move.

His green eyes were sad and drilling into me, and I briefly wondered how long he had been staring at me. His square jaw was set like stone and one lock of hair was loosely hanging on his forehead, just barely missing his thick lashes.

"I'd think it was obvious why they were friends," he said, leaning back in his chair and taking a gulp of his scotch.

"Oh? Enlighten me, please," I raising my eyebrows.

He plunked his glass on the table and grinned.

"Well, the teen town drunk, that would be my dear mother here, most likely used her devastating charm and fresh, youthful looks to be served at bars and liquor stores on the less fortunate side of town, so as to closet her penchant for hard liquor at the tender age of seventeen. See, Bella, while even the most well-bred youth partake in a bit of drink on the weekends, Esme here needed the bottle all the time. For instance, while her classmates most likely let their hair down on Saturday nights, Esme's hair was always down, which just isn't socially acceptable. There are standards, for Chrissakes.

"Moving on…we all know Renee here, just three years behind my mother, had a thing for boys a few rungs below her on the social ladder. I'm not exactly certain why, but I'm assuming it was her own form of rebellion—at any rate, these two fun time gals both had business to attend to on the other side of town. Scotch and blue collar boys. I'm sure that is the foundation of this unholy union, here," Edward finished, picking up his glass and staring in to it for a second before he gulped down the last of it.

"Well. He's certainly astute," Renee said after a beat of silence.

"Indeed," Esme said, then the two of them burst out into a round of adolescent giggles.

"Bella, lighten up," my mom said, nudging my shoulder. "You know, Edward, what my daughter needs is a good, long—"

"Mom!" I gasped at the same time Edward choked on an ice cube.

"I was going to say walk," she winked at me, and we both knew she didn't mean walk.

My face burned in embarrassment while Renee and Esme cackled and Edward raised one eyebrow at me.

"You could be right, Miss Hotchkiss. Bella does seem a bit tense. What have you been doing these past few days to become so stressed out, Bella?" Edward asked, snapping his teeth once sharply when his mouth closed.

I glared at his pretty face silently, refusing to be baited by him anymore.

Edward and Esme looked expectantly at me while Renee dug around in her purse and eventually produced a hand-rolled cigar.

"Allow me, Miss Hotchkiss," Edward said in a smooth low voice, and I noticed how quickly and completely his expression changed—from confused and questioning gazes directed at me, to smoldering and flirtatious directed at my mother.

I was amazed at what an idiot I'd been, and it was still hard to believe, even though I'd just seen it with my own eyes.

He was a motherflipping chameleon. His ability to play and turn it off and turn it on was uncanny.

Confused and vulnerable and lovable one moment- and at the next sexy, smoldering cougar bait.

I didn't even want to imagine who the real Edward Cullen was.

My mother held the cigar to her lips and Edward pulled out a plain silver Zippo and lit the tip of the cigar, his fingers and the flame lingering there while my mother puffed at her signature vice.

"Thank you," Renee murmured, leaning in while I held back vomit and Esme smirked.

"Absolutely," Edward said, his lips barely moving before he flicked the lighter closed, but didn't move away from Renee. "You're quite a legend around here, Miss Hotchkiss."

"Am I now?" she asked, letting a puff of smoke float around Edward's face.

He inhaled deeply and grinned and what the fuck was he doing?

"Mmm. Not everyone has the gumption to walk away from money and a powerful name," Edward said, sliding a crystal ashtray across the table to my mother.

"Well. I had good reason to, wouldn't you agree?" Renee asked in a low voice, nodding her head toward me.

"Indeed. Your daughter is as stunning as you," Edward said, taking a long, slow glance up and down Renee.

I gagged on my own tongue.

Oblivious Esme gulped at her scotch then raised a hand for the waiter; Edward and my mother bantered softly back and forth and I shifted around in my seat, trying not to kill anyone.

The waiter came and asked what we all would be dining on.

I waved a hand—my appetite had become non- existent along with my voice.

"Darling, I don't eat, I drink scotch," Esme trilled while my mother and Edward ignored the waiter all together.

"Bella, tell me. How are you enjoying Forks?" Esme asked, swaying slightly in her chair.

"Frankly, I loathe the weather and I find the people shallow and lacking in integrity," I said curtly.

Esme smiled her son's brilliant smile at me and raised her glass.

"Oh, Renee, I like her," Esme laughed.

"Hmm" Renee uttered, taking her hand from the top of Edward's head. "Yes, well, Bella's always been strong-willed—though usually not as bitter. A bit of boy trouble," she said flippantly waving her hand.

Jesus.

"Boy trouble?" Edward asked, his eyes darting to me.

"Yes…it seems some little bastard has been playing games with—"

"Mom, don't—"

"No, please, do continue," Edward smirked quickly at me then turned his slow gaze to my mother.

"Bella called me all in a tizzy over some cad who positively broke her heart—"

"Mom, I never said—"

"Of course you did. You said 'I fell in love with him—'

"Well, I at the very least I hope he was satisfying in bed," Esme sighed. "Nothing worse than being completely broken-hearted and left unsatisfied. That's the one regret I have about Carlisle."

"Oh, there was no sex," Renee said. "The apple fell very far from the tree in my daughter's case…that, or the boy was a homosexual."

"Oh?" Edward asked, looking mildly insulted.

"I've been gone a long time, Edward, but if memory serves correctly, Forks Academy boys were never ones to hold out for—"

"Maybe he cared for her," Edward said, shrugging lightly.

What the hell was that about?

"All the more reason for him to—"

"Not necessarily, Miss Hotchkiss. And just because one is abstaining doesn't mean he's gay…maybe he just wanted…maybe he just wanted better circumstances."

Esme looked at Edward and laughed loudly.

"Oh…Edward, I've forgotten how funny you are!" Esme laughed.

"I think I need that walk now," I said, abruptly getting to my feet—knowing he would follow me, but fuck it, that was better than him getting a play-by-play of my breakdown via my mother.

I shuffled off and heard Edward excuse himself.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Renee giggled.

"Or anything she would," Esme laughed.

I stumbled out onto the terrace and ignored the cold rain pelting down on me and Edward, who was two inches behind me.

Everything was wet, there was nowhere to sit and I was cold and I was humiliated and sad and grateful for the rain on my face. The drops hid my tears.

I heard the rustling behind me then ducked out of his reach when he moved to put his sweater over my head.

I spun quickly to face him, because I had to eventually anyway.

I gasped, because I expected a wicked smirk, narrowed eyes, something implying he was the son of a bitch I knew he was.

But I didn't see anything like that.

He was there in his wet, white undershirt, his sweater still hovering between us, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern and that mess of hair, wet and hanging in his eyes.

And I am an idiot because I still loved him.

Then he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"Nothing, Edward. I—"

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Please," I scoffed, looking at his shoulder because I just couldn't see his face all worried and hurt like that. "I'm sure you hardly noticed I wasn't around."

"The hell I didn't. I needed to talk to you! Fucking Jasper is starting to—"

"Oh, Edward. I don't give a fuck," I said flatly. "You don't want anyone to know what we were up to—that's fine. Figure out a way to cover it up. You're good at that."

"I don't know what the hell you're trying to get at, but I'm not going to sit here and play girly guessing games with you. Let's go. Let's go to my bed. Where we figure everything--"

I snorted loudly.

The bed.

My safe place, now destroyed—this brought a new kind of nausea.

I'd thought I'd been safe there, snuggling in those sheets, burrowing in the pillows while his lips lingered at my neck, the whole time unaware that Rosalie and countless other Forks skanks were doing the same thing…

Edward raised his eyebrows at my expression.

"Fine. Spill it here.

"Fine. I saw Rosalie Hale on your bed with her fingers on your dick—"

"Shit—" he started, and his eyes closed and his bottom lip sucked in.

"And that's cool Edward, we were never like, a thing or whatever, but I'll be damned if you're going to put your hands anywhere near me after you touched her—"

"Bella, it never—" he tried again, but he couldn't even open his eyes.

"Save it. I'm not mad. Like I said, we're not anything, but it's commonfuckingcourtesy to let a girl know who else you're sticking your fingers in."

"Will you shut up and listen?"

"No, I don't think I will. I saw it. Her hands were there, which means mine never will be again. So, look, it's been great, thanks for a place to stay, thanks for getting me off or doing whatever it was we were doing—"

"Bullshit," he whispered sharply and brushed past me to the wooden rails enclosing the terrace.

"Excuse me?" I snapped, turning to him.

His elbows were propped on the railing, his head wet and bowed down while the rain continued to shower us, making his white shirt cling to his stiff, hunched back.

"That's bullshit, Bella. There was more…and you know it. You're trying to act like you don't give a fuck…but you do," Edward muttered, staring down at the railing.

"You…you're right. I'm in love with you. Okay?...or not okay. I don't really… I've never really said that to anyone who wasn't blood-related, but, I just do and I know we had a setup that wasn't supposed to turn into anything like, er, love…but, it happened for me anyway so when I saw Rosalie there and touching you I was more than mad, I was sad…and I can't stay here anymore, because God, I want to give you so much more and I don't want anyone else to, and I know that's just not how you are—" I cut off my ridiculous, embarrassing rant when I noticed he had dropped his head to his hands and said nothing the entire time.

It was silent for a few seconds, aside from two sharp exhales from Edward. He sounded as though he'd just been punched in the stomach.

"There it is. Now you can go run along and tell Rosalie and laugh about it…and still, for the life of me, I can't bring myself to hate you."

"Nobody's running to Rosalie," Edward finally mumbled.

"Oh, that's right, she runs to you. To your bed and—"

"She was there, she was in my bed, she grabbed at my dick and I'm assuming that's when you ended your peepshow, because if you would've stayed any longer you would've heard me tell her to leave."

"I'm supposed to believe that?"

"I have no reason to lie. I came in from a shitty day, just fucking needing you to be there—whatever. I told her to get out. I just… I wanted you there."

I took a deep breath and asked the only question that really mattered, that would really make any difference in any of this.

"Do you love me?"

I watched as he winced and his lower lip sucked in…and I waited.

"It's complicated," he finally said, still staring down at that damn rail.

I turned on my heel and left him standing in the rain.

The bastard didn't even follow me.

I took a few futile swipes at my eyes and dug in my purse for Renee's keys, grateful that I'd insisted on taking her keys earlier, before lunch cocktails.

Esme could drive her home, or to the next bar, or to the unfortunate side of town or whereever the hell they'd go next.

I heaved my pitiful self into Renee's green Jetta and blinked back hot tears and cold rain and skidded out of the parking lot, not really sure where I was going…until I was there.

I parked the Jetta in front of Jasper's huge plantation-style house and before I got out, I noticed he was sitting on a wooden swing on the covered wraparound porch.

His feet were propped up on the railing next to his flask and there was a guitar in his lap.

Jasper watched me run up the cobblestone walkway and to the porch, not surprised, not getting up…just watching and strumming something I couldn't quite place.

I stood there numbly and silently while he stared up at me, a sad smile in place and his blonde, shaggy hair in his eyes.

"Oh…La Bella," Jasper sighed. "You let them get you, didn't you?"

"…yeah…" I breathed, biting back a painful sob.

Jasper nodded his head and scooted over on the swing, making room for me.

"I—I…w-w-as at the Horatio and and…I don't…know," I sobbed harshly, finally letting it swallow me, because what did I have left to lose?

"Well, peach, let's hear it. But before we do, watch the guitar, you're getting it wet…and let's start with what the hell were you doing at the Horatio?"

"I was having lunch with my mother—" Jasper cut me off, letting out a low whistle.

"She's in town," I mumbled. "We were having lunch with her old friend who turned out to be—"

"Ahh. Esme 'Scotch' Cullen. I'm aware of their mutual adolescent rebellion. Now, I can only assume if you were included, Edward was included as well."

I nodded, wiping the back of my hand across my eyes.

"Well, I can see how that company could reduce you to tears, but somehow I sense there's more," Jasper said.

"I just…he's not…who I thought he was," I mumbled, feeling like a bigger fool actually saying the words in front of someone.

"Ahh. Now we're getting somewhere, Swan."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean I've been observing Edward Cullen from Osh Kosh to Armani. Turns out he's not who I thought he was, either. Something's different. I think that something is you," Jasper said nonchalantly, still absently strumming.

"You're wrong."

"No. I see the looks he gives you. Edward only looks at five things that way…his AmEx Black Card, his Cadillac, his fucking piano, his vinyl collection…and you."

"Jasper, that's—"

"La Bella. I know that kid like the back of my fucking hand. Here's what I think- I think when you first came here, he was out to fuck and conquer. I think he was determined to be the first one between your thighs-I think nothing would've stopped him—yet clearly, something did—"

"Yeah, me. I didn't fuck him," I said.

Jasper laughed for an insultingly long amount of time before he got around to answering me.

"You're a strong woman, my dear, but you couldn't have held out that long. Edward gets what he wants."

"Obviously, he doesn't want me."

"On the contrary. I think he does—"

And then I had to cut Jasper off, because it hurt that he was trying to convince me Edward wanted me, when I knew he didn't.

"Look, Jasper, he doesn't. I've been sleeping in his bed for weeks now, okay? Edward and I are together every night of the week, all fucking incognito and shit, sleeping, messing around and not having sex…and you're right, if he wanted me, he could have me—because I am the Forks idiot who went and fell in love with Edward Cullen…and he doesn't love me back. I saw him in his bedroom with Rosalie. Who had her hand on his dick. I think it's safe to say if there is a change in Edward, it has nothing to do with me."

"Jesus, La Bella—"

"I know. I already know I'm an idiot. Please don't rehash it for me."

Jasper nodded and sighed, then went back to the guitar and he played while I cried softly and we both watched the rain.

"You remember when Edward lost that first poker game you went to?" Jasper asked out of nowhere.

"Yeah," I sighed, leaning my head back on to the swing.

"Remember how pissed he was? That bitch hates to lose when it comes to gambling."

"I guess," I said, letting my eyes close.

"La Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"We've always liked to gamble, to fuck with each other. The older we get, the higher the stakes."

"Look, Jasper, I don't have any cash and I don't feel like playing poker—"

"We got bored of gambling with money by the time we were fifteen."

"Well, I don't have anything else—"

"It's a damn good thing you showed up here for a better education. You're thick as hell…Look, what is Rosalie's favorite past time?"

"Being all-around evil."

"Correct. And we just established Edward's penchant for gambling and his unwillingness to lose."

"What are you—"

"No clue what the two of them are up to, but I'm pretty sure they're doing…something."

"Pssh. Yeah. I saw that already—"

"No. If Edward and Rosalie were hooking up—they'd both be bragging about it. My guess is the two of them are up to something much more twisted than late-night hand jobs."

"Like what?" I asked, sitting up and turning to face him, and I noticed my heart had started to pound in intrigue and fear.

"Well. Let's see what we have here…Rosalie, who likes puppet mastery and the anguish of others; her dislikes are… well, you. Then there's Edward, who likes a good bet and a good fuck; his dislikes are… losing."

"You think they made a bet."

"I do. But like I said, I have no idea what the terms would be. Has Rosalie said anything to you that you might—"

"Before I came here, she told me I wouldn't be able to resist sleeping with Edward. I told her I could…it's kind of been a challenge, or something…"

"Well, hell. And then you see her in his bedroom? Use your head, La Bella. There is most definitely something going on here. In the beginning, Cullen was all about taking you to bed, and Rosalie set you up to resist him…then you started covertly spending time with him and—has he even been trying to sleep with you?"

"No. We don't…we don't do that," I mumbled.

"But, you mess around?"

"Well, yeah."

"Something is off. Edward Cullen doesn't just mess around. It's a waste of time for him. He's holding back, but in the beginning he was all about it. Edward has screwed chicks over since the fifth grade…and like I told you, something is different. He's just not the same. You know the last few weeks at soccer practice, he didn't even invite any chicks into the locker room? Amanda and Leslie were practically waiting for an invitation—he knew it and passed it up. That's huge. And I'm not saying he's motherfucking Romeo now…I'm just saying I think he could care for you more than for a bet. Which is a pretty big deal for Edward."

The boy I'm in love with passed up on a locker room quickie.

What a sweetheart.

Yay.

"Am I supposed to feel special?" I asked dryly.

"Stop being a douche, Bella. You fell for him. He was being Edward Cullen long before you came around, and the fact that he's changing at all is remarkable—"

"Jasper—"

"Look at how we were raised, Bella. Fucking open your eyes. Look at his fucked-up family and his twisted friends—how the hell else would he turn out? His role models for values and morals don't exactly include Donna Reed and Ward Cleaver, okay? He's come this far, and I think that's pretty damn good," Jasper said, and I swore I heard some sort of pride in his Defend Edward speech.

"Jasper—"

"Bella. If he ever lives up to half of the potential he has, you don't want to miss it. Don't piss it away because—"

"So, wait. You think he bet Rosalie he could sleep with me? And she set me up to resist him. And then…then he didn't even try to sleep with me, and he could have. Because I would've let him," I mused, more to myself than to Jasper.

"That's my guess," Jasper shrugged, turning his attention back to his guitar, like this wasn't a huge revelation.

"Who the hell places bets on people's bodies? He's disgusting!" I ranted, twisting my fingers and breathing hard. "How dare the two of them just—I'm leaving. If this is what money does to you, I don't want it! You are all sick and—"

"Hush, Isabella. You're not paying attention."

"No the hell I'm not. I paid this whole thing way too much attention—"

"Edward was supposed to win something by sleeping with you…yet he didn't. Why do you think that is?"

"How the hell should I know what goes on in the mind of the depraved and twisted? Why don't you ask him?" I ranted while Jasper groaned.

"Shut up and let me spell this out. He was supposed to sleep with you, you would have let him, then he didn't. He didn't want you to be a damn bet."

I sat back and blinked out at the rain pelting Renee's green Jetta.

My mind spun and I thought back to the lunch—to Edward's cryptic comment: "Maybe he wanted better circumstances…"

Could that…was he referring to…he didn't want to fuck me for a bet?

My hands shook and my stomach lurched and I could be wrong.

But I could be right.

"You know, La Bella…we're all trash and twisted, no good at all, but we're all just…waiting for our moment. This could be Edward's. You should go and find out."

I nodded slowly and dug in the pocket of my hoodie for the Jetta keys. I grasped them tightly, letting them cut painfully into my fingers while my lips pressed together and god, I wanted to run to him and I wanted to strangle him.

So I sat there, on the edge of that swing, on the edge of everything trying to decide where to go and what to do…and then I abruptly recognized the song Jasper was playing.

Blackbird, by the Beatles.

"…all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…"

It was true—for both me and Edward, so I was going to go to him.

Edward Cullen was going to make me or break me, and I was going to let him.

I was going to put myself at his mercy. I was going to trust that he was truly the person he showed me those nights of shadow puppets and kissing. I was trusting my instincts, I was trusting Jasper. I was trusting Edward…that had to mean something.

And if it didn't…well, I still had a home in Arizona.

That's what love is all about, isn't it? Taking risks and putting yourself out there? And Jasper was right, there was something amazing underneath all of that bullshit…I just had to find it.

And the bullshit was there and deep and layered in him—but who the hell am I to demand perfection? So I'd go to him and I'd ask about the bet, if there was a bet and how he feels about it…because what else could I do?

I couldn't walk away from our moment.

The next few minutes were a blur—I kissed Jasper's face quickly and stumbled off of the swing and down the porch steps while his music trailed softly behind me. I hopped in the Jetta and the soles of my shoes slipped and squeaked on the gas pedal and I drove to his house, suddenly needing him to tell me it was okay, that he loved me and the only complication was that bet that he shouldn't have ever made but he was sorry—I needed all of that.

I got through the iron gates and I climbed the slippery wet lattice, cutting my fingers while my feet slipped and my heart hurt and I kind of smiled and frowned all at the same time.

I slid in the open window and he was there, sitting on the edge of his bed, fooling with a shin guard.

He didn't raise his bowed head, and all I could see was rain-dampened bronze hair, curling and spiking like a tarnished halo around him.

Edward said nothing as he lightly tossed the shin guard back and forth, from hand to hand.

"Hey," I said, finally breaking the silence.

He tossed the shin guard over his shoulder and looked up at me, with worried eyes and a jaw set like stone.

"Hey," he said in a dead, gritty voice, his lips barely moving at all.

"I don't…look. I don't know what I'm doing—" I started, but he cut me off with a deep sound coming from the back of his throat.

"Listen, Bella. I could, ah, I could sit here and try to explain my every move to you, but, well, I don't have decent justification for most of them…so…all I can really say is I'm sorry. I just want you to know that."

And he meant it.

"Me, too," I whispered, because, hell, I'd had my little game going on with Rosalie, too. It was me who came to Edward and asked for secrecy, it was me who perpetuated this by showing up every night…

"The hell are you sorry for?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. His face turned up toward me abruptly and his lips were in a red, confused pout.

I hesitated and he threw his hands in the air and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Edward…"

I willed him to tell me about the bet.

Tell me, Edward.

Confess, and it will all be okay and I'll stay and you'll love me and I'll love you back—because he needed to tell me. I needed him to prove he was good underneath, to prove I wasn't a fool after all. When he still didn't speak, I prodded him along.

"Rosalie Hale told me not to fuck you. She told me I'd never be able to turn you down…and I told her she was wrong. I told her I'd never sleep with you…"

I watched his eyes glaze over in confusion then become crystal clear, and his face washed over in enlightenment, like he finally understood.

He'd linked both of our roles in Rosalie's game.

I put my cards on the table, I was bare to him…and even in his silence, I couldn't bring myself to regret telling him I loved him. This was my time—for the first time in my life I was in love and honest. I'd done what I had to do, so even if I had to walk away hurt and alone, I was living my moment…and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to get my answers.

I crossed the room and sat at the corner of his bed so my back was to him, and I crossed my arms, hoping to look mad, but knowing I was just holding myself together.

He was quiet and unmoving and why was he making me work so hard at this?

"Was there a bet?" I asked slow and calm, my insides shaking violently.

"Yes."

"You were supposed to sleep with me?"

"Yes. I didn't know…she never told me she told you not to hook up with me…she was playing us."

"What, uh, what were you going to win?"

"Sex," he whispered.

My breath caught in my throat and I swallowed hard, willing my voice not to crack.

"Sex with Rosalie?"

"Yeah…"

"There's more."

"Yeah. Yes. Alice, too."

"You—Alice and Rosalie, like…"

"At the same time."

I felt my teeth sink into my lip, but it didn't work- I whined out quietly with a fresh sob.

The bed shifted and suddenly he was on the floor, in front of me on his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to gently pull my hands from my eyes. "I didn't know you when—"

I reached out and slapped his mouth, hard with the back of my hand, then winced at the pain burn across my knuckles.

He didn't flinch or waver at all.

"You're disgusting," I spat, my hand flying out and smacking the side of his face.

"I know," he said, getting to his feet and turning his back on me.

I shot up from the bed, my anger propelling me toward him.

"The fucking shadow puppets," I cried, using my fist to pound at his shoulder blade. "Target…and I told you about killing baby chickens," I was screaming now and both of my fists beat on his back and his neck as I just pushed and hit blindly.

"Stop," he said lowly, not turning to me, not trying to get away from my blows.

"You just…the fucking piano lessons," I shrieked, slapping at his back still, "and the kissing and fucking all of it! You were just trying to win a damn bet—"

He spun quickly and my next assault landed hard on his chest.

"But I didn't, did I?" he growled, slapping my hands away.

"What kind of person are you?" I asked, more disgusted with myself for loving him than I was actually disgusted with him.

"Fucking awful," he said, his voice loud and frustrated and his eyes unapologetic.

I lifted my hand to smack his face but he caught my wrist, then he caught my left-handed attempt as well.

"Let go."

"No."

I leaned forward and bit his fingers, still wrapped around my wrist. He hissed, but didn't let go.

"Look. I'm shit. I know that—but what was your plan, Bella? To come to my bed and tell me every detail about your life and sit on my piano bench and just be a cocktease in general? You just said you agreed not to fuck me—"

"That's different—"

"Shut it. I'm fucking bruised to hell and tired of listening-- now it's your turn to listen to me. It was you who came to me, to my bed, and it was you who came up with this whole 'let's not tell anyone' bullshit—because you didn't want Rosalie to know what you were up to…and Bella, I could have told her—and I could've won Rosalie's bet, but I didn't. You played into her fucking game, too, so don't come in here all holier than thou—"

"I didn't plan to use someone's body for a bet!" I shouted, yanking my fists in futililty.

"No. You sure didn't. But you know what's glaringly obvious about this whole thing? I was the one who was willing to lose to Rosalie—not you—"

"You! You can't twist this—"

"There's nothing to twist. I didn't sleep with you, and we both know I could have. Yet you…you held out. So many times we were this close—"

"I never wanted you to stop," I blurted out and he froze. "I wanted to give you more. I wanted to hold your hand at school like a fourteen-year-old. I wanted to kiss you by your car and I wanted you to just have me, and I want all those things we said and did to each other to be true and honest—"

"I never lied when we were just…here. That was me. That was me and you just…being," he said, his head slightly shaking back and forth, and his eyes were searching my face, looking for something…maybe more.

"How am I supposed to believe that?" I asked, the fire in me gone. Only the hurt was left in my voice.

"How can you not?"

"Because you lie—"

"And so do you. You fed me some bullshit line about needing friends and keeping secrets—"

"It wasn't bullshit. I did need you…I just—"

"You just didn't tell me about Rosalie. Just like I didn't tell you about her," he said, putting my wrists to my sides, but his hands lingered around them for a moment. "Stop hitting," he said, and took a step back, away from me.

I shifted and looked at my feet and tried not to cry while he kept retreating, walking away—and it was awful, because I wasn't even mad anymore, I was hurting—because in all of that, he never once said he had backed out of his damned bet.

He never once said he loved me.

That realization hit me like a kick to the throat—I'd given this everything I had. I told him all of it and it didn't make a damn difference.

I wanted to get the hell out of there, but my feet wouldn't move and my tears were blinding me and I was paralyzed there, in humiliation and hurt.

"So do you…Jesus, Bella? Are you okay?" Edward asked, finally turning back around, then bounding toward me in a blur of bronze and concern.

He swiftly reached one hand out and grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into him roughly, until I was being held close and tight.

My arms wrapped around him and he held tighter.

Our clothes were damp and I could smell rain and scotch coming from him and he kind of started rocking us, but I couldn't be sure if he was comforting me, himself, or both of us.

"You have more to give?" he finally whispered into my hair.

I nodded numbly, the top of my head rubbing against his chin, wishing he'd say something, anything to let me know if he had more to give, too.

"I want it, then," he said. His voice was gritty and low and I wasn't sure what he meant, but it was then I knew what I was going to do.

I wouldn't ask him if he wanted me, I'd simply give and give to this boy who already had everything in the world that didn't really matter.

Because if he loved me or not—I loved him.

Before he could ruin it by saying another word, I wanted to have my most pure moment—that moment when physical love meets emotional love. It was a moment I'd never had before and hell, maybe I'd never have again…so I wanted it.

I wanted to do this with my truth out in the open, with my feelings known.

I squirmed in his arms until he let me go, then I dropped to my knees and looked up at his face, my hands twisting in my lap.

Edward was staring down at me, not surprised, not grinning, just…there.

"Yeah," he said, nodding slowly.

"Yeah," I agreed, and then I watched his fingers go to the button on his pants and I watched him lower his boxers and khakis a few inches.

I took a deep breath and he was there, hard and solid in front of my lips, waiting for me to give…so I did.

I used my tongue, my mouth, my lips to show him that if he wanted, he could have me. I licked and I sucked on him deep and long, hoping to draw that amazing good part of him out.

I was on my knees begging the only way I knew how—I was literally at his feet, professing my love to him.

Edward's hand went to the top of my head, and he worked me into a manic fast rhythm and his hips shifted and when he groaned out it was out of frustration, like he was working too hard and not getting what he wanted.

Abruptly he pulled at the back of my shirt, dragging me to my feet—he wanted me to stop. He didn't want me to give this.

I put the back of my hand to my mouth and looked him in the eye, and though every part of me fought against it, I stared right back at him.

"I need you to give me more," he said, and his fingers dipped into the waist band of my pants and I didn't stop him…because he already had every other part of me that counted.

I shuddered, knowing I was walking on the razor sharp edge of this twisted game.

He could just be sealing his deal with Rosalie.

He could love me.

And I definitely loved him, so whatever this was going to be to him, it was love for me…

Then I knew it wasn't up to me anymore. Edward would either push me over the edge or he'd hold tightly onto me and either way, I was just going to let him.

"Do you want to—" I started, but he cut me off with just a brush of his open mouth on mine.

Edward leaned down, touching his forehead to mine briefly, then pulled back.

His eyes were closed and his brows furrowed tightly, as if he were in pain and when he spoke, his expression didn't waver.

"Yeah. More. All of you."

…**why, yes. we surely **_**did**_** end it there. that's for you, qj. go find her on twilighted. i understand she's organizing an army of pitchforks to storm the jandco/wtvoc castle. we sit up in one of the turrets with quills and pots of blood, scratchin' away on papyrus for your amusement. and we keep shackles on the wall for any guests.**


	13. Chapter 14

**So wtvoc has a new collaboration of sorts with Limona (jandco supports this, don't freak out. we're never breaking up)… the Eddies and the Bellies, a different kind of twilight fic awards.**

**Linkage is on the profile… go check 'em out and nom nom nominate way! Not every category needs to be filled, just the ones you believe in! come and play with us!**

**Edward**

Yeah.

More.

All of her.

Dude, that lunch was just fucked _up_.

They say that if you want to know what the girl will be like after you've been married for a decade, look at her mother.

Well, Bella certainly was a lucky girl. Renee was exactly what I'd like to see waking up to me every day, I won't lie. And it certainly screwed with my head that I was attracted to her mother like that.

Who didn't know the Legend of Renee Hotchkiss, the cautionary tale for all little Forks children about what happened when you ignored your upbringing? The gossipmongers loved a salacious, tawdry tale, and Renee's took the cake. Of the best stock, with grandparents whose fortune was made when they invested in Vegas casinos and possibly hoodwinked the Mafia. The best schools and the best breeding couldn't overcome her need to play on the wrong side of the tracks. Not that there was anything wrong per se with Charles Swan, but he certainly wasn't what her parents had envisioned for her when her bright future was discussed, I'm sure.

I once overheard Mrs. Hale smack her lips in glee when she told of how disgraced the Hotchkiss Family had been when their bright, accomplished daughter, who was a star ballerina and Homecoming Queen, got knocked up just shy of her high school graduation. Personally, I think it's disgusting that she was sent to live off with an underprivileged aunt like some broken woman, but eh. It's the Forks way. If the picture ain't pretty, turn the frame face-down on the mantle and bring the nicer photos forward. Renee Hotchkiss was whisked off to desert obscurity, never to be seen again.

Until today. I was absolutely stunned that she and my mother were such grand friends, but upon closer observation, I shouldn't have been surprised. Watching the two of them cackle like hens over the gossip of Forks, I realized that they really were the brightest crayons in the Forks box; much too bright for this little elitist town to remain happy with its neutral tones of haughty sepia and burnt sienna. They were the magenta and cornflower blue.

Mildly disgusted with my slightly gay color observations, I just kept on flirting with the super MILF before me. I mean, she smoked fucking _Perdomos_, for fuck's sake. The woman had taste and the balls to flaunt it. I didn't have to know her to understand that she simply didn't give a crap.

Kinda like her daughter. I loved it.

I tried to keep my eyes off of her, but it was hard. She looked improperly dressed. Not for the Horatio; fuck the Horatio. For the weather. I know she hadn't been in Forks as long as I had, but I could smell the thunderstorm on its way, and there she was in a miniskirt. Not that I was complaining, but she'd probably get cold. I started thinking about Bella shivering and her nipples letting me know she was cold and then I had to shift slightly, to reposition myself. I decided to focus on Renee then; Mother was busily swirling her scotch around and around, mesmerizing herself with the ice cubes as she surreptitiously eavesdropped on Bitsy Yorkie and Iris Newton. Those two always had the best information. In fact, I'm sure most of the Pacific Northwest was now aware that Renee Hotchkiss was back in town and had several theories as to why the four of us were being so high-profile. I bet I'd hear at least one "Hotchkiss Brat follows in her mother's footsteps" rumor regarding my lovechild by the end of the day. I smirked at the thought, and that caught Renee's attention.

"Something amusing the pretty boy?" she smiled, blowing neat rings in my direction. Pretty impressive, for a woman. I glanced over at Bella; she was busy staring out the window, studiously ignoring her mother's and my flirting. Quickly bringing my focus back to Renee, I smirked and tipped my scotch down my throat.

"Pretty? Please. I haven't shaved in three days. Nor have I slept. I look like hell." There was amusement in my voice, but I rubbed my eyes with the fleshy part of my palms because I knew I wouldn't be able to hide the strain that was gleaming dully in them. This was my mom's friend and Bella's mother; she couldn't see me as more than the spoiled pretty boy she wanted to see.

She leaned forward slightly and rested her fingertips on my arm; I couldn't help it, I met her gaze.

"There it is," she murmured, keeping the smile on her face. But I recognized that smile; it was the same one Bella used when she was stuck in a conversation with one of the sycophants who were copying everything she did; the insincere smile that made a tiny dimple appear at the corner of her mouth and made me scrutinize her expression more. I knew that smile- it meant that Renee was trying to hide what she was really thinking yet dying to share.

"Pardon?" I said, ignoring her warm fingers and the way Renee's voice sounded exactly like Bella's when she wasn't quite awake yet. Like she had been smoking for thirty years; like she was warming up her throat so that she could moan in my ear.

"It's you." She sat back, a smug look on her face. She pulled the cigar out from between her lips using a crooked finger and tapped it to the side, crossing her arms and legs together simultaneously. I noticed that Bella still wasn't looking at us, so I leaned forward and decided to play dumb. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation to have, but I suddenly felt like it needed to happen. And if it needed to happen with the girl's mother instead of the girl herself, then so be it.

"It's me, what?" I said, leaning forward and propping my elbows on my knees. She rolled her eyes at me and leaned forward, taking another pull on the cigar and ashing right between my legs. She pointed the cigar at me to punctuate her words.

"You're the boy who broke my daughter's heart." She didn't even bother lowering her voice, but it's a good thing she knew her daughter well; Bella didn't hear it. Broken? She didn't look heartbroken; she looked pissed and defiant and lovely. She had that stubborn chin pointed out, making her lips look pouty and delicious. I sort of stared at her for a beat too long because when I turned back to refute Renee's statement, I met her eyes and she visibly softened her expression, a motherly look of concern washing over her face.

"Oh my God. You're in love with my daughter." She sat up in shock; her expression had gone from sardonic amusement to stunned disbelief; still, Bella didn't notice. She had withdrawn into herself, and it was starting to worry me, but not as much as Renee. A brief glance at Mother revealed her intense study of her empty glass, and she was too busy trying to flag down a passing waiter and then flirting to have heard Renee's observations. So far, so good.

I decided to laugh at that. Love? Please. Sure, I liked her a lot. And I was insanely jealous of her time spent with anyone but me. But I don't love. I don't have it in me to give something like love a try. I'm too selfish. I can't love someone as much as I love myself. Besides, Bella's the one who didn't want to be with me. She made that much clear every time she let Jasper kiss her head or sat down in Emmett's lap.

"Miss Hotchkiss, I believe you're mistaken." It should be easy to convince her of that because well, it was true.

"Right." She was so self-assured that she was correct in her assessment, and I found it downright annoying. And now she was smirking at me, and I couldn't think of a single argument. No. Not love. Infatuation, maybe. Not the same thing.

"Look. She hurts. You hurt, too; I can see it radiating from your pores, darling. There's a difference between the glow of love and the dull gleam of confusion, but you're definitely not glowing at the moment. I think it may be your time to shine, Edward," she said somewhat tenderly, somewhat condescendingly. "Tell her. Make it right. And," she added, patting my head, "know that if you make it worse, I will make you regret it. Don't think for one second that I won't." She put her cigar out on the tablecloth next to my shoulder, never breaking eye contact with me.

I sat up, somewhat miserably. Something about the tone of Renee's voice was making me squirm, and maybe it's because I wanted to deny what she said or maybe it was more like I wanted to dwell on it; I wasn't sure anymore. But I knew that once she said "confusion" that I couldn't get it out of my head. Rebel Renee had to go and open up that part of my head that I never devoted any time to using, and well- I was starting to get a headache because of it. I glanced up at Bella and felt my features relax slightly; she was sipping her water as my mother flagged down yet another waiter, and I tried to fixate on what it was exactly about Bella that just… got to me so much.

Mother started to talk to Bella and I listened, trying to distract myself from my jumbled thoughts by focusing on Renee. She got a gleam in her eye as she started to talk about me- about Bella's boy troubles. What was her game? Is there where Bella got her more mischievous nature? It had to be. The Chief was more straight-forward.

I tried to follow the conversation, silently defending myself when Renee suggested that I had played with Bella's emotions, but I had to keep my eyes from popping out of my fucking head when Renee started bandying about the word "love". Was Bella in love with me?

Fuck. Not helping with the confusion. I heard myself arguing for my own case, but I wasn't really listening to what I said. Of course I wasn't using her or playing with her- I just. Dammit. I didn't know anymore. She was different from the other countless screws. Why? Why was she different? Because she wasn't a pretentious bitch like the rest of us were? When did everything get so complicated?

The minute I entered into a stupid bet, that's when. And I realized right then as Bella got up and walked away that the Bet had changed everything. I already felt disgusting for making it in the first place. Or, rather, I felt disgusting when I knew Bella couldn't just be some sort of spoils of war. She was better than that; if only I felt like I was as worthy.

I shoved myself out of the chair and inadvertently into the relaxed and recumbent Renee; she grinned up at me, elbowing my mother in the arm.

"Be honest. It's the only way," Renee said serenely, grabbing my untouched scotch and knocking it back.

"The only way, darling. If she's anything like her mother, she's worth it." I stared at my mother; she wasn't usually so frank or hell, aware of her surroundings. Was I that obvious?

"I don't know what you-"

"Cut the shit, Cullen. You two are hot for each other, and I don't mean sex. Esme, I thought you said he was ridiculously intelligent?" Great. The cougars were laughing at me. I felt like I was the last one in on some great joke.

"Look. She's the one who left me. I needed to talk to her, and she just-"

But they kept shaking their heads and murmuring to each other, all high-and-mighty. Like they knew something I didn't. Fuck you, Bella and Edward's Moms.

I frowned at the two of them, wishing everyone in the background would melt away so I could focus better. I knew I needed to talk to Bella, but I had no idea what to say. She was rapidly retreating out to one of the sets of French Doors, apparently oblivious that a thunderstorm was on its way as she was completely unprepared for the downpour with what she was wearing. She needed my sweater to stay warm. I flashed a look of irritation at the two mothers and practically stomped away, bound and determined to have it out with Bella. I would confront this confusion; I would. But I needed to be looking at her when I was doing it. I seemed to make stupid decisions about Bella whenever she wasn't around.

"Don't let her shut you out…" I heard Renee trailing as I made my way out to the balcony. It had started to steadily drizzle, and the rain was picking up as I walked out there, my sweater in hand, ready to make her dry and warm so that we could have it out. I needed to know why she left me before I could confront myself. I needed to know if she had misgivings about our arrangement. I needed to know if she had seen Rosalie. And mostly, I needed to know why she had been so intent to not fuck me.

She spun around to face me, and she looked so ridiculous in her inappropriate-for-the-weather clothes and lips red from being chewed on and just _amazing_. There was fire and hurt in her eyes, and I wanted to kiss that shit away so that we could talk.

"What the fuck is your problem?" The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them. Damn. And I had so desperately wanted to be reasonable, but hell. She brought out the worst in me. Also the best. I wanted to get back to the best. _We_ needed to get back to the best. We needed to go back to my room to sort this shit out.

"Nothing, Edward. I-"

Fuck that. Something was definitely wrong. "Where the hell have you been?" Are you done with me?

I listened with growing horror as her eyes went flat and she explained to me that she had seen Rosalie in my bed. Hell. But my eyes got squinty as I understood that she thought I had fucked her over, that I was laughing at her expense by fucking everyone, anyone. Couldn't she get it through her thick head that I hadn't been with anyone else? How could I? I spent every waking hour that I was able to in her presence. I hadn't even felt the need to hang out with my boys since she had invaded my room and my bed and my piano and my fucking mind.

She was trying to justify my supposed actions, trying to tell me that what we were doing didn't mean anything. And of course it did- it fucking meant that I liked her. Why didn't she see that? Did she not understand that I didn't hang out with girls? That I wasn't just friends with girls? That I didn't enter into arrangements to mess around with girls while talking to them? Fuck. She's a worldly person; she's seen the best and worst humankind had to offer. She should've know better.

Ah, hell. I should've know better. Never going to befriend a girl again.

I either had to have her or I had to let her go. Because this whole second-guessing not only her motivations but mine? The shit's getting old.

Then she did it. She dropped the bomb on me. I thought Renee was fucking around when she was saying "love", fucking with us like we fucked with everyone else. Forks did that to you; taught you to get the upper hand. And I thought I had it until these Hotchkiss women entered my life.

When she asked me if I loved her, I didn't know what to say. No. Maybe? Maybe. I had no idea. I just didn't know. The thing is- if I was gonna say that to Bella, I had to mean it. Because if I didn't, then saying so would make me the shittiest person, ever. And Bella doesn't deserve shitty. A slap of reality, maybe, but not that.

"It's complicated," I told her, and it was. Not because of the players involved, not because of her mother or mine or Rosalie or Jasper or even me- but because I couldn't figure out why she mattered to me so much let alone… aw, fuck. I closed my eyes and let the rain pour down my shirt. I was aware that we were seriously soaked, and I needed to get her out of the rain. The last thing I wanted was for her to get sick, prolonging the resolution of this… whatever this was.

I stood up straight, suddenly very determined to have it out with her and yell and possibly kiss her to figure my shit out when she stomped off.

And I just stared at her retreating figure, the rain weighing down my shirt and my fucking spirit. Watching her walk away affected me in a way that I didn't want to think about. She just told me she loved me, and I didn't even answer her. Not really. I just drove her away. Idiot.

In a kind of stunned stupor, I made my way back to the table. The moms looked concerned, but I ignored that as I grabbed Mother's scotch, hoping the burn of the aged liquid would comfort me, but it didn't. Great. I lost my Bella and I lost my scotch. No comfort left.

"Get the fuck out of here, pretty boy," Renee said, reaching into my mother's purse and producing two cigarettes. I lit them both absent-mindedly, wondering what my next move would be.

"Darling," mother said, reaching out for my hand. She patted it like she did when I was eight and used to play poker with Chef and lost miserably every time, all pissed and pouting. She would comfort me then, and she was trying to comfort me now, but I knew the only one who could make me feel better had just stomped away. Then, in that instant, I felt like the most selfish fucker on the planet. _My_ comfort? Who the fuck was I? Bella's the one who just laid it out there and gotten rejected. Well, at least she thought she got rejected. And I had to rectify that. I just had to.

"Go." Mother tossed the keys to the Porsche at me. I caught them neatly, wondering what I was going to do or where I was going to go once I started driving. Her eyes met mine, and through her booze-soaked gaze, I saw pity and hope for her son, hope that he'd man up for once in his damned life.

"I'll stay at the Horatio. I'll have Bitsy and Iris get Tanya out of the house with the pretense of inviting her to their Junior League meeting. She's been dying to get in, and those two owe me." Smiling gratefully at my wonderful absentee mother, I brushed a kiss on her forehead and did likewise to Renee.

"Remember, Edward," Renee said, a note of warning in her voice. "Make it better, or I'll shave your head while you sleep." I left the two of them giggling in my wake and rushed off, trying to figure out where Bella could have escaped to. I desperately hoped she was in my room, but I knew better. She wouldn't go there yet. She was too pissed. But I instinctively knew she'd end up there; we had unfinished business, and I was determined to see it to the end.

But first… I had to figure out what I was going to say to make it all better.

I noticed lightning in the distant mountains and chuckled at God's timing. Nothing quite like a sign from the heavens to put you in your place. I was careful not to drive too fast; the last thing I needed was a lecture from Dr. Daddy on the perils of driving in a car that he possibly loved more than his son.

I got home and sighed with relief when I saw Tanya's ridiculous Mercedes missing; Mother worked quickly, and it was appreciated. I flew upstairs, and it occurred to me that I might have another unwanted visitor on my bed, but when I tore into my room, my heart sank a little when I saw it was empty because my body had been hoping Bella would be there already. I removed my rain-soaked clothing and threw on whatever was on the floor, picking up the soccer stuff I had carelessly tossed aside. Carelessly. Because I always knew that someone would be there to clean up my mess.

Not this time.

I had no guidance. I mean, who the fuck could I talk to about this? Carlisle? Hell no. I couldn't talk to him about Bella unless the words "C-cup" and "fully insured" were involved. My mother? Despite her moments of clarity, she would simply assure me that I could have any girl I wanted. Jasper and Emmett were out, seeing that I wasn't entirely sure they wouldn't take advantage of my situation and turn it to their advantage.

It really sucked having no one you could trust completely.

But then my mind started screaming that there was, indeed, one person I knew I could count on.

But I could hardly talk to Bella about how I felt about her, now, could I?

I chuckled darkly when I thought about how that conversation would go. Because she'd tell me to get over myself, quit complaining, and just do it.

Just tell her. That girl wasn't afraid of anything. Despite her vulnerability- I could always see that side of her; whether she was slapping down a winning hand or publicly denouncing the two-faced assholes in the school- there was always a tremor in her stance, a slight worry, but that was always overshadowed by her bravery, her absolute bold attitude that she would not care about the consequences, because she knew she would prevail. I sort of hated her courage and adored it at the same time. Mostly because I didn't have the guts to do what I knew to be right; just what I wanted, with the most superficial, selfish part of me.

I had no integrity. And she made me face that. Because she was practically dripping with it. How did she make it look so easy? And people _admired_ her for it. They thought it was "bold and refreshing", like she was a fucking cup of the new Starbuck's to be tasted and enjoyed. Could it really be so simple to act on your morals rather than your base desires? Until now, I never had any wish to. And I didn't think I had any morals, either.

But sitting there on my bed, fiddling with a piece of sporting equipment, I came to realize that I wanted to do it. That I needed to. To dig down deep. Figure out what I wanted. Because I owed it to her. I mean, she really fucking put herself out there, didn't she? Just threw it out there. "I'm in love with you. Okay?" I didn't know if it was okay, because it was making my throat dry just thinking about her saying it. Because I felt like I had manipulated her into saying it; played with her just so I could win some stupid bet.

When had I stopped playing with her? Somewhere in there, I had let my guard down. Let her in.

But I had made a bet. For sex. To have sex. To get sex. Lots of it. Everywhere, always surrounding me. Weighing me down. Overabundance. Maybe it was possible to have too much of a good thing?

But no. Because with her, it would never be enough.

And I was starting to understand that I couldn't have her. _Not like this_.

And that shit _hurt_.

If I fucked Bella… I'd be _fucking_ Bella. And not in the good way. She had told me that she wanted to give me so much more, and that she didn't want anyone else to give to me. And only just now, sitting here, impatiently dreading her arrival, did I understand what she meant. She didn't just want to sleep with me; she wanted to keep me. To make me hers. Vice versa. Love and all that crap.

I don't know why this revelation stunned me so much.

Renee was right. I was an idiot. And my mother was right. I wasn't worth it… yet.

This moment of clarity hit right when I heard her climbing up the trellis. The rain was just hitting, and I could feel the thunder on its way. Perfect timing, really. I panicked for a half a second because I still didn't know how to make it right. I couldn't just tell her I loved her because I still didn't fucking know what that meant and it would be me trying to make things better, which- let's face it. I didn't ever do that. I didn't say shit to make people feel better. Not my style.

But… love? It had to be more than this overwhelming urge to smother her in a soul-crushing embrace of my mind and my lust. And if this is what love feels like- this fucking _uncertainty_- then I didn't want any of it. What was this elusive fucking concept? I thought I knew. I thought it was like, that shit when you feel all fluttery and protective and weak and silly and while I kind of did feel those things, I also felt insanely confused and angry at myself and her and at my parents for raising such a selfish son of a bitch and then she was there, dripping water and hurt and hope.

I didn't know what to say. I chickened out because I am a coward and I let her start.

"Hey," was her brilliant opener, and I repeated it because I just couldn't think of anything better. Hello, care to help me win a bet? The worst part was, I was trying to focus, but her shirt was fucking see-through and her bra was purple and she just looked so damned vulnerable and cold.

What was I doing?

"I don't… look. I don't know what I'm doing." She was sort of fidgeting, and I watched as her fingers made their way into her hair, mindlessly squeezing out the water.

"Listen, Bella. I could, ah, I could sit here and try to explain my every move to you, but, well, I don't have decent justification for most of them…so…all I can really say is I'm sorry. I just want you to know that." Maybe I could start by being honest, too. And I _was_ sorry. Sorry that it had come to this. Because I knew. Knew that standing there, hoping and furious and beautiful, that Bella deserved to know about the bet. Then maybe she wouldn't be so in love with such a despicable person such as I.

Or maybe she'd love me anyway. Isn't love all about overlooking someone's flaws? I wished she had flaws that I could overlook.

She was even trying to make me feel better, suggesting that she had something to apologize for. For what, for making me confused and all twisted up inside?

She met my eyes then and it looked like she was willing me to be open, to divulge. So I did. I took a small breath, trying to bring myself to just fucking tell her. But how do you say that? How do you tell someone that the reason they're miserable and wet and -fuck, her knees were fucking _raw_- how do you say "it's all because I bet someone I could fuck you?"

You don't, that's how.

She surprised me by telling me about her own bet.

And I couldn't move.

I shouldn't have been shocked.

But I was.

I've known Rosalie Hale for my entire life.

For whatever reasons… she liked to screw with my head. It's one of the reasons I was so impervious to other people's feelings… I had locked mine away for so long. I had to, to survive in this caustic social environment.

Because I knew as she stood there, confirming to me that Rosalie was a nasty bitch in the worst way, that Bella would be broken. This would crack her veneer, mar her integrity.

I had done that. And I was pissed at me for being that guy, the one who would hurt her spirit.

I had to tell her about the bet. So I did. Not because she was telling me, but because she needed to know.

Needed to understand that she wasn't just some bet. Not anymore. So chick flick cliché... the popular douchebag coming clean to the hot minxy nerd.

I told her and she tried to beat the shit outta me. I didn't blame her. In fact, if she had responded calmly, I probably would have doubted the veracity of her feelings for me. Besides, I deserved it. I really was disgusting; I may have been confused, but about that I never had doubt. Selfish, selfish boy.

She needed to understand this. I didn't refute any of her accusations. They were true, all of them.

And still…

She was gorgeous in her fury. Pummeling me with her tiny fists, her damp hair swinging wildly in her face, her body tense and ready to either cave in on itself or wrap me up in her rage. I almost smiled because this was _my_ Bella, the one that no one ever saw. She kept it so cool for everyone else, and here she was, laying it out for me to see. And I loved her for that. For showing me a hidden part of her, even if it was a nasty part and it was pissed. At me.

But hell, I started to get a little irritated. Where does she get off being so accusatory? And stupid me, I had to go and point that out. Because I'm into punishment. But honestly- I was the one who was willing to lose. By not sleeping with her. It was convoluted, but it was as moral as I got. She, on the other hand, was holding out. Winning her bet. She told me however-the-fuck long ago it was that we weren't going to fuck. So she was just trying to have her bet and eat it, too. But then-

"I never wanted you to stop," she said. "I wanted to give you more. I wanted to hold your hand at school like a fourteen-year-old. I wanted to kiss you by your car and I wanted you to just have me, and I want all those things we said and did to each other to be true and honest—"

And I believed her.

I desperately needed that to be true.

It would make this so much easier if it were only true.

"I never lied when we were just…here. That was me. That was me and you just…being."

It was.

"How am I supposed to believe that?" The defeat in her voice wrecked me. I wasn't winning. Neither was she.

"How can you not?" Indeed, how could she not?

"Because you lie—"

"And so do you. You fed me some bullshit line about needing friends and keeping secrets—"

"It wasn't bullshit. I did need you…I just—"

"You just didn't tell me about Rosalie. Just like I didn't tell you about her." We needed to stop this shit. Stop the facades and the the the _shit_.

"Stop hitting." Because I like the pain too much.

It makes this real.

It makes us real.

I wanted us to be real.

"So do you… Jesus, Bella? Are you okay?" She was _crying_. I made her cry. I am a dick.

Fuck. I just wanted to scream into her face and have her scream back into mine and I found myself wrapping around her, willing her to just be here with me. Forget the bets and forget my narcissism and remember that it was us, just the two of us here. I wanted her to be here with me, to let me be here with her. That much I could give. All of me.

"You have more to give?" I knew she did. And I knew I wanted it. And I knew I had more to give because hell. I hadn't given her anything yet.

Her body was warming in mine, warming to me. She was rubbing her damp hair on my face and she was so fucking strong and vulnerable and trembling so I whispered to her that I wanted it.

"I want it, then." I wanted her. To be mine.

And she was.

It took everything I had not to howl with relief that she was in front of me, not running, not hitting. Not yelling or accusing. Just being. Being mine.

And I could be hers.

I could.

I had given her nothing. Giving her myself? It suddenly seemed like the easiest thing in the world. To give her what she wanted.

And it seemed she wanted to blow me. Like I'd argue with that.

"Yeah." I'll take it, and then I'll give it, too. For her, I could do that.

"Yeah." And I gave her me. I gave her what she wanted.

I was eager to give. For the first fucking time, ever. I have spent the last few years of life cultivating technique; studying and comparing finger curls, tongue strokes, hip swirls, whatever. Teaching, being taught. All in the pursuit of pussy. But it was always a means to an end, just another way to say "Fuck you. I'm the best." I realized right then, with Bella on her knees in front of me, that the end was _her_. Always had been. I just never knew. Poor me.

So I lowered my shorts and couldn't even watch as she put her mouth on me, taking me in for all she and I were collectively worth. She was too beautiful, too giving. Too perfect for this. I didn't allow myself to think of how she got so fucking good because her technique was flawless; the pulling and the tongue and the rhythm and she would have to stop and take a deep breath, her hot mouth hovering around my dick before plunging forward again, the sloppy, smooth sounds of her lips gliding over me, the tingling warmth jerking me forward and keeping me from being hypnotized by her shiny, dried hair under my hand, the soft strands tickling my palm as I pulled her into a faster rhythm. And I was a selfish fuck for moving her faster, but she was just taking it and giving it and fuck. I didn't want to come in her mouth. I wanted to come inside of her. I wanted to make her feel good. I wanted to make her know that she wasn't just some fucking bet. I needed to show her that. I needed to tell her that, but I couldn't. I couldn't.

Not if we were going to fuck. That ain't right. You can't tell someone something like that when you're trying to give and get an orgasm. That's just manipulation, and I didn't want to ever manipulate her, ever again. It would have been better if I had figured my shit out before she put my cock in her mouth, but it was too late for that. It would have to wait. I refused to disrespect her while we were giving in to our mutual lust. And I certainly didn't want her to misunderstand my intentions.

So I decided to do what I do best. And I needed her to do it with me. I needed her to give me all of it so that I could give her all of it, too. This would only work if we did it together.

I pulled away, knowing I was going to fucking come right down her throat. She looked a little hurt and confused and so I told her I needed her to give me more. And she understood.

"Do you want to-"

Oh yeah. I wanted to. I leaned in for a kiss and just relished in her salty Bella smell, brushing my lips on hers. I hesitated slightly, knowing that once I really kissed her that I wouldn't be able to stop. I needed this. I needed her. Not just her sex- _her_.

"Yeah. More. All of you." All of you, Bella.

"Okay."

She leaned up and kissed my chin; I cupped her face and looked right into her eyes, and I was slightly troubled that I saw a tremble in her chin so I kissed her. Unrestrained. Unthinking. Softly and lightly, I kissed. We kissed. Her sigh in my mouth nearly made me shatter it was so tender. And I needed her, I needed her skin. I needed. I I I I . Still such a selfish fucker. I understood just then the phrase "making love" because this wasn't easy. We were making something here- something new and fucking frightening. I had never kissed someone just to feel her breath in my mouth before.

She pulled back, not meeting my eyes as she sat on the bed, scooting back and beckoning me with the sway of her legs as she shifted. I pulled my boxers back up because it was fucking cold and I suddenly noticed the rain pelting on the window panes, some of it pooling on the sill because she had left the window open. I heard a peal of thunder in the distance and a flash of lightning blazed. It seemed so dark suddenly, despite the fact that I had never turned the lights on. I turned back to Bella, and she was waiting, trusting and heaving and cold so I crawled up, wanting to warm her with my skin.

"Hey," I said, grinning a little because I could feel her nipples through her shirt. I leaned down and kissed her again, and her head turned to the side so I could taste her neck, bite my way down to her shoulder. I sat up and looked down at her; she looked a little startled at my sudden movement, and I felt almost giddy as I ran my hands up her bare legs and back down to yank her stupid shoes off. Going back up to warm her skin, I felt her tense up as I made it past her skirt, the frayed edges tickling the backs of my hands. I kept going until I reached the top of her underwear with the tips of my fingers and I tugged a little, never touching her skin. Tugged slowly, deliberately. Watched her eyes widen as she bit her lip, not moving or at least trying not to.

In a movement so swift that I surprised my own fucking self, I pulled out and went for the button on her skirt.

"If I'm down to underwear, so are you," I whispered, trying to lighten the tension in the room, but it didn't work. She lifted her ass off the bed to make it easier, and my cock flipped up seeing her thrusting up like that, her shoulders never leaving the mattress, her legs on either side of me as I pulled the skirt off. I tossed it behind me and just stopped, staring at her beautiful legs and the sliver of stomach between her shirt and panties. I leaned in to kiss that sliver and she jerked under the touch of my mouth to her belly; grinning into her skin, I blew warm air on it, enjoying the gooseflesh that peppered her flesh. Rubbing my stubbly chin on it, I moved a bit north and found her bellybutton, letting the tip of my tongue snake out and trace a loose circle around it, feeling the tremors of her thighs as she clenched involuntarily beneath me.

I was jerked up by a flash of lightning, and the answering thunder made me grin. In that brief moment, I had seen her eyes shut, mouth open and her chest was heaving slightly. I had every intention of paying attention to her gorgeous tits, but I was feeling the increasing need to just give and give, so I went back to that taunting piece of exposed bellybutton and nipped at it, making her shift.

"Stop tickling," she said, letting out a giggle so soft I almost didn't hear it over the rain.

"No," I said, and I pressed my fingertips lightly on her hips, tracing down to the edge of her underwear. She squirmed and her legs parted and I could practically taste her need and I looked up and our eyes met in another flash of lightning and the fucking desire there nearly made me stop breathing.

Embarrassingly enough, I became aware that I was actually breathing heavily, and with each expiration, I let out a warm blast of breath on her, making her writhe and goosebump and I inched down, sneaking looks at her in front of me. Her tits were in fine form, pointing up and rapidly down, up down, up down, her face looking like the fucking sunshine in between two mountains as she urged me with her trembling lip and trembling eyelids to keep fucking going.

So I did.

More.

Kisses trailed, trailing down from the delicious dip of her navel and over the slight bump of her abdomen and smoothed lips making a path of moist on her skin. I could smell the wet of the rain and the wet of her pussy and I just fucking _needed_ it. Flash of lightning bringing me to her face, her head tossing back and hair erratic, her heaving increasing and I made quick work, rubbing my five o'clock on an inner thigh, making her gasp, making her jump, making the thunder shake the dark.

The light in the room was weak and made everything grey and blurry, but I had singular focus set on the boy shorts in front of me. I turned into her thigh, nuzzling the soft-smooth, burying my damned face in it. I breathed in her warm and felt the heat under me, drawing me in, pulling me down. I let my jaw drop, my mouth wide, hovering over the crease in between, her legs raised and thighs sheltering, my crazed hair tickling and making her shiver. I had to pause, to keep myself in check, to prevent from diving too fast. Needed to draw it out so that I could give as good as I got. Hovered, pausing, tormenting. Lightning flash, lighting her face, highlighting her desperation. I leaned in. Shot hot breath across thin fabric, cock jerking at the wet already there. Heat and hot, white and light, lightning flashing and Bella moaning. I snaked my hand from her thigh to the edge of the cotton, one single finger hooking and revealing, the smell flaming up my nose and attacking nerve endings, clouding my blurred vision and judgment and my tongue shot out, tasting the smell, licking the skin, the gasping Bella or was it me or the thunder- staccato breaths, ascending higher and higher with the lick and the lap and fuck.

Underwear needs to go. Gone. The lightning flickered faintly, Bella sobbing, back of her hand on her forehead; I couldn't see what her other hand was doing because I was in there, nuzzling and circling and pointed tongue and this is what I do best but fuck, never so good. More. The taste; the fucking taste of her; licking fingers afterward had never been so damned satisfying as this _more_. And she was squeezing me, muffled thunder still crashing around outside, hammering my thoughts with her thigh flesh engulfing my face and my mind and I couldn't believe I let her fucking slap me and why was she letting me in, why did she love me so much? Why did I love her so much and more more more _more_.

And I was giving her more and giving her _it_ and she grasped my hair and pulled and I flat-tongued up and she growl-moaned, moan ringing in my ears and lightning showing the veins in her neck flexing as she gritted her teeth, gasping and panting and she let go as I went back down, pulsing with tongue and rhythmic crescendo, up and up, swirling and tickling and in between fold and skin and taste, my hands holding her ass, squeezing as she clenched muscle and thigh and her hands slammed down on either side of her body, thunder following in her wake. The lightning flashed again, the thunder unable to keep up with the sweet-loud cries of her, of Bella, _my_ Bella.

More.

Light flash, me getting up, languorous lap up, no waste of taste, slowing my breathing to think. Why did I need to think, because I would start to remember the awful thing I had done but it was tough when she was pulling me up by the roots of my hair, her fingers interlacing and grabbing a hold of my head and my heart and I kissed that sweet spot above her femoral and she shivered despite our heat. I moved back to the bellybutton, inching up as I unbuttoned and kissed lightly, not wanting to lose her sweet salt from my lips just yet, savoring her taste so I could savor it _with_ her, using tongues.

Light flash, her eyes were closed, her mouth parted and her breathing stilted. I kissed her forehead, her eyebrows, lids, nose, cheeks. Sweet clichés that I wanted. Next to her ears, below her ears, her neck. Under her chin, on her chin, above her chin, below lips and mouth. Light parting of her lips, a brushed tongue and then she was meeting me, awakened, out of her come coma, participatory and wanting to give. She wanted more. She wanted me.

I shrugged out of my shirt, down to my boxers and her still in that ridiculous excuse for a bra. I was up on my knees, a grin taking over my face, a happy grin. The foolish grin of a guy absolutely mesmerized by the girl in front of him. Not because she was naked, not because I just ate her out and gave her the orgasm of her life; but because I wasn't done. Not by a long shot. I grinned because of what was to come, I grinned because I had made her come and I grinned because I would again make her come. And again. I didn't want to stop, ever. She needed me, I needed her, we needed us. I couldn't do this with anyone else again. Would not approach the same if I did. I needed to tell her. But not now. I couldn't do it, not now. The thunder and damned rain would drown out my whispered thoughts, my jumbled feelings. I had to be clear, I had to be articulate. I had to not be fueled by lust and the need to fuck and the need to make her feel good. My need for more was driving me, and I took a deep breath to make it about us, not about me.

I reached down and pulled her by her underarms, bringing her in front of me so that we were facing on knees, my hands drifting deliberately to her bra and she was unclasped expertly and the slight purple fabric fell, trapped in between by our touching skin and she whipped it away impatiently to the side, putting her hands on my shoulders and pulling me down for a scorching, lightning-lit kiss. My mouth open, my hands hovering above her, not touching. Needing the mouth and tongue contact to keep me grounded.

Because once I started feeling, I'd never stop.

And then she was pushing me back, my hands grabbing her so we fell down together, her lifting up and straddling and brushing against me and oh God, her face and the adoration in her eyes, the lightning making a Bella shadow against my wall, hair framing the soft glow, her eyes lit and never leaving mine as she pushed back and my brain hadn't caught up with my cock yet because I didn't even realize she had been on it or at least I didn't make that connection and I was so fucking hard and shit shit shit, couldn't lose it, not just yet. But she started rocking, lip biting, hands on my ribs and fingers fanned, brushing my nipples and making me hiss. Grabbed her hips, slowed her rocking because I really would fucking lose it, and my Bella, good God how good this is, your gasping just isn't fucking helping me with control.

I thrust my hips up and off the bed and she moaned loud, competing with the thunder and I pulled down and out, her shocked gasp of outrage mingling with her lust at the friction and I tossed her next to me, needing to control even though she was the one in control with her eyes of fire and her lips and her very will bringing the lightning and my thunder to crash around us. She had them all in the palm of her small hand that was now flat on my neck, bringing me to her mouth and whispering "please".

"More." My voice was grit and gruff and love. I didn't fake that. Couldn't be helped. It simply was. In the small moment when we weren't wet with each other or penetrating or enveloping or kissing but were simply touching and being- it simply was.

"Yes. Please. More." Her voice was shaking, and I could see that she was there; she wanted the more, too. Not just words now, and I didn't realize it until just then that I needed to hear that, to see that. That she hadn't talked herself into loving me just to defy a bet or a Rosalie or even herself. Lust might fuel you to think you were in love, but this wasn't just lust- this was trust and love and I finally had it right, I finally knew. I just fucking knew. I had been an idiot.

No more.

The thunder was fainter, fading. Letting me hear, letting me see and the lightning was flickering intermittently but softer, showing me her face and her want. And I gave. Pushed, pressed into her, asking and begging with my eyes for Bella to let me in, let me give, let me have. Give more. I held her gaze, I held her want, I held her hips as I thrust on, letting the rhythm carry me along with the soft tremble of weather outside; as I pushed and grunted and desperately tried to not lose eye contact, her eyes were struggling to stay open, her mouth slack and heaving chest hitting mine with rhythmic slap as our bodies curved against and with each other. Paced, racing breaths and a kiss here and a clawed hand in my back there and then there I was, the pressure threatening me but hold off, Bella gets it first.

Our breath and our gasping and whispered calls for "more" were all I heard aside from skin meeting skin. The thunder had moved away and it was dark; I could barely see but it didn't matter because she was there, just fucking there and shaking but locking still, her muscles pulsing while her body was frozen, the clench of her warmth finally making me come, come until I couldn't hear anymore except for the sweet high of dropping, falling off and landing on Bella and in Bella and with Bella Bella Bella.

"Bella." I hated that it was whispered and breathless but I loved that it was so true, the desperation gone from my voice because I knew it and I loved it as I loved her beneath me and around me and through me.

And I wanted to tell her, to let her know so that there was no mistake but how could she- how could she not know that I had finally given what I had never been able to give before and it was fucking great because dammit, I just knew she reciprocated because there's no way she had ever had that with anyone, ever.

I no longer wanted more. Because I had it. I had her. She had me.

This is what they were fucking talking about.

Gently as I could, I pulled back and out and made no attempt to collect myself as I rolled over, briefly wondering how we had ended up at the edge of the bed and then she sat up and I reached out to stroke the long, lean line of her back and her muscles flexed under my touch, making her sit up and lean away from me.

Could I tell her now? Would it sound bad if I did it, if I came clean and finally admitted what I had been dreading but apparently wishing for? Could I just blurt it out like some lame fucking Hollywood Hunk in his post-star-making-indie-role pre-big-budget-action-vehicle romantic comedy? Would this make me a-

"There," she whispered.

"Now you can go win your bet."


	14. Chapter 15

**jandco: this one was hard to do. WTVOC unleashed her genius in the last chapter and trying to write after that and to justify the following was ridiculously hard. I hope it works. It wouldn't be possible without WTVOC, Bittenev and Jimmy Gnecco, whose song Darling provided the perspective I was searching for.**

**WTVOC: dude. we had an actual argument about this chapter. no, no, no. shut up. i cannot express enough that we're irrevocably bound at the keyboard and right atrium and will never break up.**

**i mean… we argued because jandco was like "how am I supposed to follow that up when I suck so hard" and I was like "dude. yer jandco for one thing. and secondly… DON'T YOU EVER LEAVE ME" etc.**

**ps… i listened to portishead's "third" when writing the thunder nonsense. chiggity check it, yo. "machine gun" works perfectly with this part.**

**Bella**

He didn't say it.

He didn't say it.

Why the hell couldn't he just say it?

God, it was there, I felt it in his fingertips, I tasted it on his tongue and I heard it in the thunder and everything he didn't say.

He cared.

Just not enough.

Not enough to give up on his bet, or everything he was before I came to Forks.

What did I think I was gonna do? Save him with pussy?

Kiss him so hard that he couldn't not say it?

Grind on him until all he could see or ever love was me?

No.

But I didn't regret it.

Even when he was holding on too tight and not saying it, even when I whispered his name and thought for certain it would be the last time I ever did, even when I was crying while he moved inside of me and moved me and still didn't say it—even then, I didn't regret it.

You can never regret loving someone—and that is the one true and honest thing I learned from Edward that night.

Even when you should hate, or hit, or run like hell from that certain painful heartbreak—you just can never regret truly and purely loving someone.

No matter how it ends.

So…when the most beautiful and hurtful thing that has ever or will ever happen to me was over…there was nothing left.

I gave it all—he asked for more, and I gave it.

But nothing came back my way—so I wouldn't stick around to marvel and cry at what just happened. I could do that at home.

I sat up reconciled.

I was in love.

I wasn't loved back—enough.

He simply—he just, he couldn't do it. This place ruined him for someone like me. I needed to be loved back the way I wanted to love.

Most of me pitied him, because he simply couldn't see, he just wasn't capable.

And then I felt his fingers on my bare back and I had to jerk away, because if he kept touching, almost would be good enough, and I'd never forgive either of us for that.

"There," I whispered thickly, hoping he'd think the tremor in my voice was just a residual from the sex. "Now you can go win your bet."

His hand dropped and I hoped the lightning was over; I needed to get out of here in the dark, no flashes of light to give me away.

"What?" His voice came low, out of nowhere, much like him.

"Just…it is what it is. I can't just take less."

"You don't want me."

I don't want half ass.

I don't want secret, covert sex.

I don't want almost.

"I won't be back. So…" I whispered, sliding off the bed, my hands trembling and searching for clothes—his, mine, Rosalie's—didn't matter, just as long as I was covered enough to get out of there.

"Bella…it's because I made the bet, isn't it?" he asked, but he hadn't sat up and he hadn't even moved at all.

"Yeah. It is."

I heard a sharp intake of breath and I found a shirt.

"You won't be back," he murmured, and it sounded stoic, like he was mulling the idea over in his mind.

"I'm…I'm going to miss you," I said, pausing with the shirt halfway over my head, pressing the cotton into my eyes to dry the tears.

I had to tell him that—I was being honest tonight, I needed tonight to be the night when I did and said everything true and real.

"Don't. I mean, you could stay."

"No…"

I can't be someone's not quite good enough.

Not even Edward's.

I'd go back to the unfortunate side of town, and Edward could go back to being Edward and this…this would always be the best thing that almost happened to me.

"No? You…I guess. I guess I understand why," he said, his voice raspy and quiet and tight.

I nodded and somehow slid my numb legs into pants, then numb feet into shoes and then I was stumbling forward in the dark and I heard his teeth snap, biting the silence.

"The window…it sticks when it rains. I'll open it—"

"I think I'll use the door," I whispered.

I shouldn't use that window.

I was walking out after all…I needed a door to shut on all of this.

"Bella?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to miss you, too."

My eyes squeezed and my lips mashed together and my teeth dug painfully in—and why couldn't he be capable?

Or rather, why was I too capable?

Why did I still love him as hard as I did?

I tried to choke out a goodbye, but it never came…and then I left, my only regret being the one thing he couldn't say.

And I as much as I wanted to, I couldn't ask him to—I couldn't beg him to try.

I wouldn't ask him not to cash in on his bet—hell, I gave him the win.

Instead, I'd work very hard at retaining the memory of every touch and every sigh and every smell and smile and sob—and I would always remember tonight as the night where I loved hard and whole and honest…and I was almost loved back enough.

**Edward**

Blink.

Blink blink.

"What?" What? Bet…

She thought…

I lost her.

I was lost.

She wouldn't be with me. The bet… the fucking bet.

We were lost. No more. Gone.

Because of a…

I could salvage this.

I could make her stay.

But not if she didn't want to.

She wouldn't even look at me. Because I was filth. Because I played with people's lives. Because I allowed my life to be played with.

Really and truly, I didn't deserve. Didn't deserve her. Any of it.

I suppose this is what is meant by growing up.

When you realize your actions…

It hurts.

It just… hurts.

My eyes closed. The thunder was gone. The lightning was gone. All of it, just… gone.

"I guess I understand why." No, I understood perfectly. She couldn't be with someone who had such disrespect and disregard and disaster and other words that began with "dis".

Couldn't blame that.

I would miss her. I would miss this.

She wouldn't even use the window. Our window. The opening to… us. It was closed now. I might have to nail it shut.

She walked out of my room and my more and I was left there, naked and symbolic and really fucking cold.

I had to shower yet couldn't bear the thought and I just rolled over and flipped the covers over my body, unable to make the shivering stop and I hated myself and her just a little bit but most of all I hated that stupid…

"Now you can go and win your bet."

As I felt the words gouge little paths into my brain and imagined the letters and nuances breaking up and creating holes, I hardened a little and decided I wanted to feel empty and devoid. Chuckle, chuckle. Laugh out loud. The great Edward Cullen has been defeated by a bet, and I knew inside that this was exactly what Rosalie Hale had intended for both me and for Isabella Swan. Well played, Hale. With one lightning-hot night, I won my bet while she lost hers… and if I fucked Rosalie or didn't, Rosalie still won. An excellent opponent.

If I were capable of tears or laughter, I would have gladly done both.

But I was a stone cold motherfucker, so I just closed my eyes and willed the thunder to return, to prove to myself and everyone else that I would get over this.

Of course it didn't. The storm was over.

So I fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 16

**Helllooooo, update sooners!**

**Point of clarification: jandco **_**always**_** writes Bella. wtvoc **_**always**_** writes Edward. Some people didn't see this in the last chapter, and jandco takes the blame because of that author's note. Make no mistake, BBs- that chapter was the both of us.**

**You can have fun reading a little ditty we wrote for the Lazy, Yet Discerning Ficster blog (linkage on the profile). wtvoc gets a little crazy about reviews, but believe us when we say we both love what you guys have to say. Just, please. Don't call us fucking bitches. We might know this to be true; doesn't mean we like having it thrown in our faces. And we'll update when we're good and ready. **

**Love you. Hard. All of you. Even you, Anonymous Ashley. wtvoc's self-gratifying, ego-driven nonsense notwithstanding. We don't want to frighten anyone away from saying what's on their mind. Just… no fucking bitches. That hurts. It just does.**

**Bella**

Saturday, mid-morning.

Not awake, but hell, I definitely hadn't slept, either.

I struggled to open my swollen eyes because last night…last night was spent crying and fucking and wheezing and loving and kissing and not regretting…but still being sad.

"You look like hell…and not the sexy rock star nymph type."

I jumped and snatched my covers tighter to my chest, then breathed a sigh of relief when my fuzzy eyes fell on Jasper's back. "La Bella, why do you have a Coldplay CD?"

"It was a gift," I whispered in a grainy voice, confused and disoriented still.

"Well. For the love of Lennon, don't keep it next to the Cure. That's just disrespect," Jasper said, pulling the Coldplay CD from its spot and tossing it on to my desk with disgust.

Jasper turned and walked over to my bed.

He stood over me and stared intently at my face, assessing the situation.

"You shouldn't have slept with him," he finally announced.

My expression became indignant—because how the hell did he know, and dammit, he was wrong…of course it was right to sleep with Edward.

"I don't regret it—"

"No offense, but you don't exactly have the glow of new love about you right now, doll."

"I suppose I wouldn't. Turns out love isn't all they say it is."

"I could have told you that. So, there was a bet," Jasper ventured, treading lightly.

"There was. It was worse than I thought. I'll just say Hale twat is involved… but it's not… look. I slept with him, I love him, we're not together and I don't regret it…and that's all I really want to say about it right now. I can't really…"

I just couldn't say it all out loud yet.

I would tell Jasper all of it…just not right now—not when it hurt to even think about it, much less say it.

"You don't have to tell me, but you do have to get up. We're busy today."

"No, Jasper, I don't want to—"

"No, La Bella. Get up. Clean up your pretty face, fix that rat ass hair into something sexy, and let's move. I don't have time to argue—"

"Jasper—"

"Bella," Jasper said, picking up a lock of my hair then letting it drop back on the pillow. "Get up. Lying in bed stinks of defeat, and I'll be damned if I watch this place defeat you."

He was right.

One of the many erratic thoughts I had last night was where to go next—what to do.

My first instinct was to run as fast as I could to Arizona or Delaware or California or any place that wasn't here…

But then it occurred to me that Forks owed me.

This place and these people had already taken so much from me. They played me and praised me and laughed at me—this place broke my heart and taught me awful lessons—it owed me.

Why should I be driven out after this place sucked me dry?

No.

I'd stay.

I would stay in Forks and at the Academy and use every bit of prestige the name had to offer to my advantage.

I'd go Ivy League and I'd succeed and I'd do it all because among hurt and despair and fucking drama and psychotic classmates—this place also had the ability to get me anywhere I wanted to go. That's why I came in the first place.

And right now I just wanted out.

I'd work for it, use every advantage Forks and its reputation could offer—motherfucker owed me.

I sat up in bed, letting the cool air hit my arms, and Jasper patted the top of my head then returned to mentally critiquing the contents of my room.

In the shower, I repeated song lyrics and favorite passages from books. I thought of my first and last ballet lesson while I dried my hair and I just thought of everything in the world that wasn't Edward Cullen.

I met Jasper in the kitchen with his hand shoved in a box of Triscuits.

"These are shit," he said, tossing the box on the counter and taking the time to survey me. "Very nice, Peach."

I eyed him back suspiciously and carefully, for the first time noticing what he was wearing.

Black pinstripe pants, complete with silver wallet chain.

White collared tux shirt, untucked but pressed and crisp.

"Jasper. Jasper- what exactly do you have planned today?" I asked, my eyes narrowed.

"It's the third Saturday in November," he said.

"I didn't realize that required formal attire."

"It does…nothing you need to worry about, anyway," he said, swinging his key ring on his first finger once before shoving off the counter and heading for the door.

And because I needed the distraction, I followed like he knew I would.

"You need half a tux to go to 7-11 on the third Saturday in November?" I asked when we pulled into the parking lot.

"Don't be an asshole, La Bella. It does nothing for the bags under your eyes."

He turned to me with raised eyebrows.

"Medium cherry," I sighed, leaning back in the seat.

He nodded once and got out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition.

I stared at the dashboard until Jasper emerged with two Slurpees, a pack of gum, a pack of Camels and a red rabbit's foot keychain.

"Really?" I asked, eyeing the keychain and poking my straw into the Slurpee.

"Pssh. Hell yes, really," Jasper said, mildly offended.

I shrugged and he put the car in reverse.

"Pop the top on that bitch," he said, nodding to my Slurpee with one hand on the wheel and the other digging through the console.

I took the top off and Jasper's hand triumphantly held up a small cylinder silver flask.

"What's in it?" I asked, completely open to the idea—because—hell.

"Gin, of course. I'm assuming you've had your fill of scotch."

He assumed wrong, but somehow gin seemed to be perfect right now.

Distinct and strong.

I sipped Cherry Slurpee and gin and let Jasper's genius taste in music sing to me.

"You know…it's not really his fault," I mused when my lips felt numb. Jasper cocked his shaggy head to the side but stayed silent. "She just…I mean, she manipulates everybody. Bitch. In a really strange way…it's almost worse for him, because, fuck, they're supposedly friends or whatever…and she just…I dunno…where we going?"

"Miss Mimi's."

"Miss Mimi. The hell is a Miss Mimi?"

"A Miss Mimi is an important piece of Forks education that, quite frankly, I'm embarrassed we haven't covered yet. Perk those pretty, buzzed ears, La Bella. This is important."

"Kay."

"You're familiar with various, numerous social events in our financially blessed circle…you know, events celebrating money and status poorly disguised as charity benefits for things like the homeless epidemic and childhood diseases—things that no one around here has any concept of nor any genuine interest in—yet everyone attends because, well, they sleep better at night if they toss a decent plight five grand and hell—it's a reason to out do your nearest and dearest."

"Right."

"Well, Miss Mimi is a tailor—not just any tailor—_the_ tailor. She opens her doors only on the afternoon of such events and fuck—if Miss Mimi doesn't do your clothes, you're just—"

"I wouldn't think you'd give a damn about who 'does your clothes'—"

"Please. It's not a status thing for me. Miss Mimi is the best, and hell, La Bella, clean lines and a good hem are just class. And that does matter to me."

"I see."

"Bottom line is, it's a mad rush to get to Miss Mimi. Everyone wants Miss Mimi—and she knows it, too. She gets a kick out of watching cat fights and personally, I think she enjoys the fact that she can get such a reaction from the cool citizens of the Forks community. Anyway, she's quick as hell, but still only takes about fifteen patrons and charges them enough to support herself 'til the next event she feels like opening her doors for."

"I think I like her," I mused.

"I do. It's first come, first serve. The diabolical genius behind this whole thing is that she can't be bribed. Three years ago, Mrs. Hale tried to pay her to make an appointment for early in the morning. No dice. The thing about Miss Mimi is she takes the money factor out—it's the only place in our world where money or your last name will get you nowhere."

"Wait. Everyone goes to Miss Mimi?"

"You dragged ass getting out of the house. I'm sure Cullen's already come and gone. And I'm holding you personally responsible if I show up to the Save the Porpoises benefit looking anything less than Miss Mimi ready."

"Why do you give a—"

"Clean lines. Crisp hem. Class."

I sipped my Cherry Gin and decided to concede quietly.

We pulled up to a tiny red brick building with a dilapidated sign that read _Miss Mimi's_ in hot pink scrawl on the front lawn.

"Are you kidding? I cannot believe Forks' finest drive past this place, much less step a toe inside," I said.

"Well. It makes them feel morally just and politically correct to employ those a few rungs under them on the socioeconomic ladder."

"So long as it helps them sleep at night," I sighed.

"Nah. They have Xanax and Valium for that," Jasper said, opening his door.

Inside was a clusterfuck of wealthy.

Bitsies and Darlings and general, all-over insincerity.

I leaned against the glass door, the rusty bell jingling over my head, and pulled my arms around myself, watching in sick fascination.

Voices walking the fine edge of collected and hysteria, shoving disguised as greetings- and I was glad for the Cherry Gin I could still taste on my lips.

"Welcome to Miss Mimi's," Jasper said in a low, flat tone, taking in the scene.

I heard a high, sharp voice above the others, barking in what I assumed was Mandarin…then the crowds parted and I saw a glimpse of what I assumed was Miss Mimi.

She stood 4'10" at most and donned a bright purple jogging suit and bright white orthopedic tennis shoes.

Her black hair was pulled tight to the back of her head in a neat bun with a pencil sticking out from it and bifocals rested at the very tip of her nose.

Her tiny mouth was pulled into a scowl and her head was tipped up, her almond shaped eyes cold and giving Iris Mallory the business.

I liked Miss Mimi.

"But you see, Miss Mimi, Lauren had a spa appointment, so I'm bringing her dress in—"

"No. She no here, she no get service. Next!"

"Miss Mimi, you don't understand—"

"Next!"

Mrs. Mallory straightened her Chanel shades and sniffed before retreating with a huge garment bag, her head held high but her face livid.

The crowd descended on her and I lost sight of my new hero, Miss Mimi.

"Be good, kid, I gotta go find someone to cut in front of," Jasper said, kissing the top of my head and disappearing into the crowd.

Iris tsked me once rudely for blocking the door before she huffed out.

I took up my post back in front of the door and tried to focus on the patterns on the rolls of fabric hung on the wall next to me.

And then I couldn't anymore, because Mrs. Crowley and Emmett emerged, sweeping through the crowd smiling triumphantly, and their wake left a gap in the sea of limbs and hair and, hell.

Rosalie Hale's perfect profile was clear in my line of vision.

Gold waves fell down her bare back, shiny and perfect. She was in a white, strapless gown, holding the hem up around herself with one arm, her free hand pointing and gesturing and her face was twisted in disgusted, confused bemusement.

Her mouth was running and whatever words she was saying…she was saying them to Edward.

My heart leapt and my stomach twisted and wouldn't stop and I was dizzy and buzzed and I knew if anyone was looking at me, they'd think I was suffering from some crazy eye attack.

I couldn't blink fast enough to keep the tears at bay.

But I couldn't look away, either.

Edward had a baseball hat pulled low on his head, bronze locks curling up over his ears, his scruffy jaw locked and sharp.

He wore black tux pants, suspenders hanging down to his legs. His hands were in his pockets, and all I could see were the unbuttoned cuffs, stiff and spread loose over his wrists. The collar of his shirt was all the way up, the sharp corners jutting out toward Rosalie and there was an untied black bowtie just hanging there around his neck, looking limp and sad and just waiting for someone to tie it up crisp and handsome.

And God, I wanted it to be me to tie him up neat and perfect…I wanted him to teach me to tie his bow tie and then my hand was pressing into my stomach, and I felt so empty and somehow fascinated by the fact that…just hours ago, he was inside of me…and now he was so far away.

He cocked his head and seemed to be looking just over the top of Rosalie's head, dazed.

She snapped a finger in front of his face and he swatted it away but didn't move. He looked tired.

He was moving slow and his strong shoulders were sagging—and he just shouldn't ever have to look that way because, maybe he had rubbed off on me, but Edward Cullen should never look defeated.

That bitch.

That sociopathic, demented, life-ruining bitch.

She fucked with me, she set out to hurt me and I hated her for it—but fuck.

When I thought about her doing that to Edward, too, I more than hated her.

I wanted to abuse her.

So I took one last lick of my Cherry gin-flavored lips and pushed off the glass door.

Some unbuzzed, logical side of me whispered that maybe she was just raised this way, too.

That maybe this whole thing wasn't her fault.

Didn't matter.

I saw Rosalie and I saw the reason for all of this—she just personified everything awful and twisted about Forks.

She ruined what could have been the best thing to ever happen to me, she was the reason Edward would never love completely, and dammit, he just deserved to.

We were robbed and we were wronged and someone had to defend us, just as someone had to pay the price for this.

Me.

Rosalie Hale.

My teeth ground together and my nails dug sharply into my palms.

In Forks, people manipulated and blacklisted people they didn't like.

In Arizona, they just kicked the shit outta them.

I decided I'd done enough to conform to Forks, so it was time Forks did some conforming to me.

I'd start with a chick fight.

I plowed through the crowd, hardly noticing the nasty looks and whispers.

I couldn't look at Edward, so I didn't, but I hoped he would know this was for all he had lost, too.

I focused on her snowy white elbow and didn't stop staring until I was close enough to reach out and grab it, then yanked her around to me.

I noticed Alice out of my peripheral vision, but couldn't be bothered with her—yet.

"Oh, dear. Swan, you look positively shitty," Rosalie said, a small smile at her lips, her blue eyes wide in amusement.

"I know," I said, but took comfort in the fact that she was about to look a lot shittier.

"Well. I suppose you wouldn't know, but generally the ladies around here take time to make themselves presentable before going out. Stop being trash and go to the ladies room and fix this. The Academy frowns upon poor grooming."

"Bitch," I uttered, because I didn't want to waste time with bantering.

"Pardon me?" Rosalie spat, her eyes narrowing.

"Bet. Bitch," I said, taking a step closer and I couldn't be sure if the store had gone completely quiet or if the pulsing in my ears had drowned everything out—but my adrenaline and gin was getting harder to contain with every second I spent looking at her.

"Ahh. You've figured it out. It took you longer than I suspected. I mean, did you really think our Edward Cullen would be keeping company with the likes of so—"

I took a step closer and she stopped and took a step back.

"What…what are you doing, Swan?" she asked, taking another step back, her eyes darting to Alice.

"Keep backing up, Hale. Won't help," I said, shoving her back by her boney shoulders.

"La Bella."

I put a hand in the air behind me, telling Jasper to stay out of it.

"Isabella, stop being trash," Rosalie said, just before I shoved her again, making her head snap back.

She turned her back on me, which was a bad move on her part, because I could've just taken her out then, but I wanted to do this face to face, so I grabbed her arm and spun her back around, making her let out an incredulous shriek.

She wouldn't walk away from the consequences. I'd make damn sure of that.

If I had to live with the damage of this, so would she.

Without even having to think about it my arm pulled back and shot out hard and faster than I expected it to—and landed directly on Rosalie Hale's perfectly glossed pink lips.

A loud commotion of voices buzzed through the crowd, surrounding us, and I was shocked when no one actually stopped this.

Happily shocked.

"Bitch! I'm bleeding!" Rosalie raged through her cupped hands.

I shoved her back again and she grabbed out and her hands tangled in my hair, then my stubby nails found her cheeks and I dug them in, because this was, after all, a chick fight.

She screamed and let go of my hair and I just wanted to push her.

I wanted to shove her the hell out of my way, because she'd just been in my way for too long.

I shoved her shoulders hard, because fuck, get outta my way.

I walked forward and kept pushing her back.

Get out of Edward's way.

I shoved her stomach and she slapped out at me but missed.

She should have just left us the hell alone.

I kept plowing ahead with each step getting her out of my damned way.

Step and a kick to the shin.

Step and a shove to her shoulder.

Step and my palm shoving her pretty, scratched face.

"Stay," I said, low and calm, my hand pushing the center of her chest.

"Out," I growled, using one hand to sharply shove her shoulder.

"Of my way."

Blonde sweaty strands of hair clung to her cheeks and her eyes were wide and her bloody mouth curled into a tight, forced smile.

"He'd never actually be with you. You know that, right?"

I heard Edward say my name.

I heard Miss Mimi say something about "out, now."

I heard gasping and whispers and shouting—

But the only thing that resonated was Rosalie's statement.

He'd never actually be with me.

He could never actually love me.

I could never have that.

The outrageous weight of that hit me hard in the gut and I lunged forward, almost making contact, but a huge arm caught me and yanked me back by the waist.

"Easy, baby girl," Emmett whispered near my cheek, and I writhed and kicked against him, not taking my eyes off of Rosalie's frightened, marred face.

"Fuckingletgo," I growled, not really caring that I was foaming at the mouth.

"For real. Ease down, Swan," Emmett said and I kept twisting and kicking and somehow I managed to break free and lunged again, but he caught me by the waist of my jeans.

Then I heard a rip and I was free again.

Rosalie's eyes widened and my fist was flying toward her—

Then it stopped painfully midair.

"That's enough, Swan. Yer gonna crack her grill."

I snapped my head around to see Emmett's huge fist holding mine back. The kid had an iced-out slide ring on, bearing his initials.

In that split second it occurred to me that Emmett's fist could do a lot more damage than mine.

"Okay," I panted. "I'm stopping."

Psssh.

I'd never really stop.

I felt his hold on my fist loosen and go almost slack, so I used my free hand to grab his wrist and flung it out blindly.

And hit my target.

"What the fuck—"

Piercing shriek.

Many, many awful words—all of them directed at me.

Emmett yanked his hand back, and I vaguely registered his horrified expression and then Jasper was dragging me through the crowd and I didn't even get the chance to survey the damage I'd done.

"Bella…" Jasper was talking and arms were flailing and it was pretty much chaos, but through it all I saw one person absolutely stoic and motionless.

Edward's head was bowed, the brim on his hat shadowing his eyes, but I could see them on me.

His expression was completely blank- unreadable- and then I was pulled out of Miss Mimi's.

Jasper tossed me in the passenger seat and walked around to the driver's side, but then my door opened and Emmett shoved me aside so I was sitting on the console and he was in the passenger seat.

Jasper got in the car and started the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot and the three of us were silent, until Emmett couldn't not speak.

"What the fuck, Swan?"

"I'm not sorry," I said, letting my chin rest on my pulled up knees, letting the adrenaline subside.

"Well, shit. You made me hit a bitch."

"No one will blame you…you shouldn't have tried to get in the way."

"That's some shady shit, Bella."

"She had it coming. Fuck. You know that, Emmett."

"I don't know what your beef with Hale is, but next time, leave my fisticuffs out."

"Next time, don't jump in."

It was quiet for a second then Emmett grinned at me.

"Okay," he said easily, then he was laughing, his fist thumping the ceiling.

"That was the sickest shit that's ever went down up in this sorry-ass town," he howled. "A bitch fight. God, I love it."

"You've never seen a fist fight?" I asked, kinda shocked.

"Shit, no. We're class. We fuck with sex and money when we get pissed."

"Huh," I mused.

I leaned up to look in the rearview mirror…because it wouldn't be good if my father pulled me over to arrest me for assault.

"Quit being twitchy or get in the back, Pacquiao," Jasper said.

"Sorry. I'm sure someone has already called the police, and my dad—"

"To quote possibly the best rap crew of all time, N.W.A.- RIP Eazy. Fuck the poh-lice," Emmett shrugged.

"Well. No. Mainly because my dad is the police, and because I'm not one of you. I'm not above the law—"

"No one is calling law enforcement," Jasper mumbled with an unlit Camel between his lips.

"How do you know?"

"Well. Snitching isn't her style, number one. Number two, if she talks, so do you. While everyone is aware these things go on, they go on behind closed doors. Mr. and Mrs. Hale wouldn't hesitate to deny their daughter if she publicly humiliated them by offering sex as compensation for a bet. It's acceptable to play games so long as they're played quietly…Mrs. Hale can't go to the next Junior League meeting and have everyone know her daughter wagers pussy. Rosalie knows that."

"He's right. You got the lockdown," Emmett said.

"How do you know about—"

Emmett held up a hand.

"Hale has been betting sex since sophomore year. I lost my virginity when I won a bet," Emmett said, his eyes looking wistful and reminiscent.

"She's gross," I sneered.

"Eh. Call her what you will…she's a good lay…but still. What was on the line, Swan? Cullen was jumping through hoops—and he jumps for nothing—not even Rosalie's pussy."

"He's right," Jasper said sounding bored. "It's standard. What were the crude details, Princess?"

I paused.

This would hurt Jasper.

Edward was one of his best friends…and he made a bet in the hopes of sleeping with Alice.

I decided to deflect.

"Why are the two of you even friends, anyway?" I asked, using a hand to gesture at each of them.

"Bella. That's the most ignorant thing you've said to date," Emmett sighed, reminding me of the very first time I met him.

My distraction had worked. On Emmett, anyway.

"Oh?" I urged.

"Oh. What happened when Run DMC collided with Aerosmith?"

"What?"

"Fucking _Walk This Way_ gold happened, that's what."

"I see."

"Whitlock is the Aerosmith to my Run DMC. I'm the juice to his gin. Fuck, Bella—"

"What are you hiding?" Jasper asked, cutting Emmett off.

I hesitated and he flicked the lid off of his Zippo and lit his cigarette.

One eye squinted in the smoke and he stayed silent, waiting for my answer.

He'd find out sooner or later, so I took a deep breath and blurted.

"If Edward could get me to sleep with him, he'd win sex. With Rosalie…and Alice. At the same time," I said quietly, watching Jasper drive from the corner of my eye.

Jasper pulled long on his cigarette and slowly exhaled out of his nose, his eyes narrowing, considering what I just said.

"Well. Fuck. I guess we all got played."

"You didn't," I said quietly. "Alice doesn't even know how you feel."

"Edward does. He agreed to fuck her. And La Bella, he didn't know how you felt, either, just like Alice doesn't know about me. The really shitty part about all of this is there's no one to blame. It's just…how we do."

"I know it," I said.

"Hell. Who am I gonna blame for this? Edward? No. He's my boy. I got front row seats watching this kid turn into who he is…I'm a part of it. When he made that bet, it was just about sex, which just isn't a big deal for Edward. Alice? No. She's a part of this world, too."

"I know."

"You're too good for here," Jasper said, and most of me agreed.

It was silent while Emmett fucked with the radio and I pressed my lips into my knees, taking weary glances at Jasper, because he hurt, too.

Suddenly, Emmett flicked the radio off and twisted his huge body toward me, his eyes lighting up like the Tupac Lives rumors were just confirmed.

"What?" I asked.

"Cullen is a pimp. He's down with O.P.P.—"

"Thanks so much, Emmett—"

"Shut up and listen. Jasper's right. You're not cut out for here. And neither is Jasper."

This caught Jasper's attention and he raised an eyebrow at Emmett.

"You can hang, Dogg, but you never really cared much for the game. You never got it like Hale or Cullen or Stanley or Brandon or I did."

"Touche," Jasper sighed, and he sounded tired.

"Well. Don't you get it?"

"No," I said, letting my eyes close, wishing he'd just get on with it.

"We're living a motherfucking teen dramedy movie, fools. What's the obvious outcome here?"

"Emmett. Just say whatever the hell you want to say," Jasper said, ashing out of the window.

"The lovelorn best friends both burned by others—but what they finally figure out is those were the wrong people all along. The best friends belong together. They finally see it, kiss, and everyone is happy."

"Are you implying Jasper and I—"

"Nope, not implying it. I'm saying it."

And then it was just awkward up in the GTO.

Jasper was silent and I watched him from the corner of my eye.

He wouldn't be Miss Mimi-ready for the porpoises tonight, because he left there, for me.

He never pressured me about what to do about Edward, he just listened.

He was betrayed by Edward.

He was sad about Alice.

Emmett was right; we were both kind of out of our element in Forks.

I was hurt, beyond confused…and hell.

Was loving someone supposed to be hard and painful? Shouldn't it be easier?

As easy as sipping Cherry gin—not hard to toss back like strong, gag-inducing scotch…

I eyed my empty, discarded Slurpee cup at Emmett's Adidas-clad feet.

Edward wouldn't let me just leave a Slurpee cup in his Cadillac, yet I didn't even think twice about leaving it in Jasper's car.

Edward would never put scotch in a Slurpee.

Hell, who was I kidding—Edward would never even drink a Slurpee at all.

Jasper shifted in his seat and wordlessly turned the radio back up and I noticed a callous on his finger from guitar strings.

I watched his sandy hair loosely fall in his eyes when he rolled the window up, and for the first time I noticed how a few locks curled loosely up at the nape of his neck.

He let out a slow exhale and turned his head slightly toward me when he noticed my staring.

One corner of his mouth turned up, then the kind of smile faded and he turned his attention back to the road.

Jasper?

**So gsumuse is fantastical. Her thoughts on Scotch are exactly what we love to read in a review. Thanks, g-su. You are loverly.**


	16. Chapter 17

**Yes, yes. This took longer than usual. Please read the Lazy, Yet Discerning Ficster for my response to all of the PMs I keep getting about updating. And know that we ARE, INDEED continuing this story. Come on. Less than three weeks is **_**nothing**_**. **

**Love you all, hard! Especially you three who did that LJ thing. You know who you are.**

**So make sure you check out the Temptation Twilight Podcast (linkage on the prof) this coming week… limona and wtvoc are announcing the nominees for the Eddies and the Bellies! Voting begins the 18****th****…**

**Edward**

"Wake up, bitch."

No.

"Cullen. It's 8:15."

So.

"Cover your shit up."

Why.

"Edward."

What.

"Edward."

Jasper.

"Edward?"

I opened my eyes. I groaned, rolling over and realizing that I was still naked.

Because of-

It came rushing back to me. all of it.

Thunder. Bella.

Lightning. Bella.

The Bet.

She left.

She left me.

Edward Cullen got walked out on.

And I had to laugh. Ridiculous. Ridiculous how empty I felt.

Denial?

Nah.

Emotion?

None.

All was quiet. No thunder left.

Perfectly fucking serene.

I looked up at Jasper. I didn't' even need to swipe at my eyes. All was clear and fresh.

Thanks, Bella. I think I needed that.

Jasper was leaning on the opened door, legs crossed, arms crossed, eyebrows crossed.

He had a curious expression on his face, like he wanted to say something, but was struggling. He was also looking vaguely threatening.

"The hell are you doing here so godawful early?" I asked, licking lips and tasting her on me. Mixed with my own salt, the sweetness fading as I grew more conscious and self-conscious.

"Mimi's, bitch." He shoved off the door and sauntered over to the closet, casting a glance at my clothing strewn about the floor but saying nothing. I figured he was in a mood, so I ignored and pulled myself out of bed.

Blood rushed to every limb in my body. I had fallen asleep across the bed, so my legs had hung off the edge. I could feel the pin pricks of blood return, the pain tickling, making me smile that I was feeling anything at all.

I berated myself as I stepped in the shower for contemplating not washing her off of me, but that was stupid and such a chick thing. No one liked being around someone who smelled like stale pussy.

I toweled off, noting with delight that I felt great. Purged. Refreshed.

"Here," Jasper called out, tossing some boxers at me. I decided to wait on shaving or hair until later and went to see what Jasper had picked out for me.

I took a pair of pants to the face. "The fuck, bitch?" I mumbled, stepping into a set of Missonis I wasn't even aware I owned.

"You're late." He had produced a mug of coffee that was Mommy-stamped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. I raised my eyebrows at him as I walked over to my dresser to grab a beater.

"And?"

"Weekend, bitch. I ain't got shit to do." What the hell is he on about?

I suddenly remembered that there was some "people congratulate themselves for being rich and benevolent" soiree later on, and I further remembered this month's Really Special Crisis was being hosted by the Hales.

Fucking great. The last thing I needed was a Rosalie Hale, badgering me about the Bet. Or worse, her favorite accessory Alice, who was much more observant and who knew me better. For all that she was a diabolical genius, Rosalie was dense when it came to the human condition.

I sighed and went to grab a shirt, but Jasper tossed me a crisp, white Marc Jacobs. "Come on, Edward. Lemme dress you. You look in no condition to make decisions for yourself today."

I narrowed my eyes as I shrugged into the shirt, buttoning it up and looking at him. He had his poker face on, leaning on my closet door as he met my eyes.

"Come on, brother. When I saw that you weren't there at opening, I knew something was up. The fuck, man?" He raked his hands through his scraggly blonde and looked like he was going to continue, but then he just stopped and waited for me to continue. What could I possibly say?

"I didn't feel like getting up." I still didn't.

"You know, T's downstairs, all pissed and worried that she won't get in to see Mimi. I told her to calm down because everyone knows if there's one exception she makes, it's for those who live in Dr. Cullen's house." I smirked at that; Miss Mimi certainly did treat me and my father better than anyone else, and Tanya got lumped into that nicety by proxy. Mimi gave her shit, but she always accommodated.

"Honestly, I forgot about the gala. I've been… preoccupied." Understatement.

"Right. About that…" But he didn't finish. And I didn't continue. What was there to say? I had an eye-opening experience and had my heart-

No. It was a learning experience. That was it. And I learned that in no way was I fit to ever, ever do that again.

I still wasn't processing the previous night, and fuck it. I didn't want to. I turned and saw that it was gorgeous outside- clear and bright. A new beginning.

The start of the rest of my life or whatever-the-fuck. Because there was no way I was returning to the shit that had led to last night. I just couldn't. Did that shit break me? Was I broken?

Would she fix me?

Probably not. And I had a bet to collect on.

I suppressed another sigh as I thought that one over.

Would I do it?

Of course.

Could I do it?

Absolutely.

Should I do it?

Yes yes yes.

Sad how you can convince yourself of anything when given the right amount of self-preservatory denial.

I stood up a little straighter and made a plan. To wipe Bella from my slate. If she could leave me that easily, then I could drop her, too.

But I had to send a brief prayer to whoever was listening that she wasn't a bleeding heart liberal interested in saving the whatever. My plans wouldn't see fruition if I saw her so soon after the-

And then it occurred to me that she just might go on the arm of a certain best friend of mine. And the thought just upset the shit out of me.

"So quit fucking around, Jasper. What do you know?" I just decided to get it out there. At this point, what did I have to lose, really?

"La Bella." I was glad he didn't patronize me. He was cool like that.

"Yeah." I was suddenly uncomfortable, wondering if we were going to have one of those touchy-feely talks. Because I sincerely did not want to talk about my emotions. I wanted to return to being blissfully entrenched in the asshole that I had been before I had met her.

"You got too close." It wasn't a question and not even really a statement. Just pure, undiluted truth. Jasper had a knack for stripping away the bullshit and getting to the nitty gritty. And he was so right. I did get too close. I let her in and all that crap. And somehow I knew it wouldn't be so easy to let her back out. I didn't think she did it on purpose, but she had managed to infiltrate under my exterior and now… I was fucked.

And the best thing to do when you're fucked is to… well, fuck.

"Listen, I'm over it. Let's go to Mimi's." Jasper gave me that "whatever, dude" look he had perfected years ago and headed out of my room without another word.

We went downstairs and I could hear Tanya banging around in the kitchen. Great. She was going to be a handful today.

"Boys, boys, boys," she muttered when she noticed our approach. Wordlessly, she slipped plates of French toast in front of us and we silently affected meek expressions as we ate. Jasper kept eyeing me and I was starting to get tired of it.

"I know, I know. Mimi's. Come on." I wasn't hungry anyway.

"You two go. I just remembered I have shit to take care of." You mean _Bella_.

What was Jasper's game? Was he here to scope me out? I watched with my fork in hand as he pushed back in his chair and allowed Tanya to ruffle his hair. He put his plate in the sink and slouched out of the room with that lanky walk thing he had; only I could tell that something was seriously agitating him because instead of the wallet chain smoothly whisking along his leg as he cut long strides across the kitchen, it clanged around and clinked up against walls and counters and breakfast nook chairs with his exit. Something was definitely up. Jasper wasn't often so unsettled as to allow his Steve McQueen impression to falter.

I sighed and endured Mommy's glare; she cocked her head stiffly at me, indicating that we should go. I followed her out to my car and opened the door for her, taking her enormous Zac Posen garment bag and carefully laying it out in the trunk because I just didn't wanna hear her bitching if I stuffed that shit in there like the worthless crap it was. There was an old baseball cap of Jasper's inexplicably hanging on a nail in the garage, so I grabbed it and smashed it down on my head. Maybe his cool exterior would rub off on me. The last thing I wanted was for people to start bugging me with annoying questions.

We drove in silence to the alteration shop, and I pulled into a freshly vacated front spot and saw the bustling crowd in and out of the place. A path seemed to clear as we walked in; I mean, everyone knew that Mimi always served the Cullens straightaway.

"You late." Miss Mimi glared at Tanya and gave me a warm smile, her gold tooth flashing at me as she grabbed at my arm. "You late, and your cuffs disgraceful. Get here," she reprimanded, shoving me in front of the three-way. Suddenly, Rosalie was there, invading my three-way vision and looking stunning in a white strapless. It looked expensive and sexy and useless.

"Edward," she purred, primping her hair and pulling at the armpits of the dress. It was a little loose in the tit area, and while normally I would enjoy the view that being a tall son of a bitch afforded, I just wasn't interested. I was still reeling, and well. My neck fucking hurt from all the straining I had done the night before. Plus, well. I didn't really sleep worth a damn.

I needed to sort my shit out. Now I was feeling physically unfit, and that shit wasn't kosher. And if there's one way to get a girl out of your system, I assumed, it was to get another in there, stat.

And I did have a bet to win.

But honestly- the thought of collecting just didn't… I mean, I didn't know. I wasn't disgusted or apathetic or anything about it. I had a threesome to look forward to, and I felt nothing. It wasn't that I didn't care, I just- nothing.

Rosalie smiled at me.

"You don't look so good. Things not going well for our golden boy?" She turned from me and checked herself out in the mirror while Mimi attacked her with pins. Rose knew better than to talk when Mimi was working, so she simply stood there, pushing her tits and ass this way and that, watching me out of the corner of her eye while I stood there, not moving.

"What, Rose?" I sighed, sort of wanting to get it over with. I was tired of it. Maybe I should just fuck her and be done. Then I could move on with life and whatever.

Too bad I really didn't wanna. But I suppose I didn't have a choice.

"You know what. I'm just wondering if you need more inducements to win your bet?" She sounded so fucking smug that I sort of wanted to punch her in her perfectly glossed mouth. But hell, Edward Cullen will fuck a guy up for denting his car or fucking his girl (if Edward Cullen ever had a girl, anyway) or stealing his Johnny Black, but not a chick. Never a chick.

Even if she fucked him and left him.

"Rose, fucking shut up already." I tried not to smile as Mimi stuck her with a pin, but the "tsk" from the glorious tailor's mouth as Rose winced was just too fucking good.

"_Pardon, monsieur. Mais… qu'est-ce que c'est que '_shut up'_? Je ne crois pas que je vous aie entendus correctemente_." Miss Mimi stuck Rosalie with another pin, but I could tell that she had gone into unfeeling super bitch mode again. I guess I took it a little too far with the shut up thing, but fuck it. I wasn't in the mood to deal with her shit. Mimi turned to me and started fussing with my hem, muttering about unruly boys and their rude mouths, but she stood up and swatted me in the arm.

"You no need alteration, Mr. Cullen. Your clothes are impeccable, as always. Except for cuffs disgrace." She then narrowed her eyes at Rose. "You no move, Miss Hale. Mimi be back." Rose sneered at the retreating form of Miss Mimi before turning back to me.

I tuned her out as she started proselytizing to me, some shit about keeping one's promises and porpoises, but my mind kept wandering. I couldn't stop it. Rosalie was talking about bets, and we were in a crowded room full of old money and rude money and Blaine McCarty was checking out Mitzi Stanley's ass and all I really wanted to do was sink back in my bed and wait for a Bella who was never going to climb through my window again.

"Hey, you," I heard Alice say as she sidled up to me. She pulled Mimi's stool over and stood on it, draping her arms around my shoulders. A month ago- hell, a week ago- I would've grabbed her wrists or reached behind me to grab a handful of her tight ass, but I just wasn't feeling it. I felt the cold satin of a bow tie and she started to flip it and fix my collar, but that time I did grab her wrist, stopping her. Reminded me too much of…

"Aww. Isn't that special. Foreplay, Cullen? It isn't nice to tease," Rosalie said, and when I lifted my head enough so that I could just make out her tits under the rim of the hat, she lifted my chin up with her newly painted finger.

"Hey. The fuck's the matter with you? I'm busting some of my best work here, and you're ignoring. Don't ignore." She pouted, and I'll admit- sexy as hell, but fuck. Just wasn't doing the same thing to me. I no longer felt that furious anger that she was always snubbing my open-ended sex offer; I simply felt tired. Tired down to the bottoms of my shoes. My dick did give a half-hearted salute, but even he was telling me that it wouldn't be the same.

Alice's tits were pushing into my shoulder blades, and when I sort of stepped forward and out of her rubbing, she gasped quietly in my ear and tightened her arms around my neck.

"Fuck, Edward," Alice whispered, and I could feel her head move with mine as we both looked over at Rosalie. Luckily, Queen Bee was pseudo-politely begging Miss Mimi to bring in the waist another inch and didn't notice the two of us. I did see Blaine and Mitzi and Tanya and several others staring at us, but I paid them no heed. Everyone always stared at me, constantly documenting visually what the Masen Heir was doing for further analysis with cigars or tea service. Always.

"What, Alice?" I asked, and I could hear the exhaustion in my voice, the fucking… defeat. I knew she knew; she always knew things before anyone else did. It was my little secret with Alice that I never told anyone, including Jasper; Alice was not quite the shallow, mindless sheep bitch everyone thought. Jasper could never reconcile why he was so in love with the girl, but I knew. It's why I never went for her, ever. That shit just sucks.

_You'd sure fuck her, though. Wouldn't you, Cullen?_

Bah. That was different. I loved Alice in a different way. So I could do that. It's what any of us did, really. Not let feelings get in the way.

And that was how I conducted business right up until last night.

"You did it. You won."

"Mm." No use denying. She'd see right through me, like she always did. It was our game. I knew she wasn't really Rosalie's Bichon Frise, she knew I wasn't totally hopeless. We just never mentioned it. There was never any use trying to break free of the mold Forks stuck you in. Not unless you had guts to flip the bird to your upbringing like Renee Hotchkiss or Colleen Whitlock or even Jasper. But I guess neither Alice nor I was strong enough for that. Yet.

"There's no shame in backing out of a bet, Edward. In fact, I think…" but Alice didn't finish because Rosalie chose that moment to start paying attention. Interrupting my life revelations, that's my Rosie.

Alice kissed me on the neck and hopped down, bouncing over to her uncle and disappearing into the crowd or at least her stature made me lose her.

But it didn't matter. Freaking Alice. I always forgot that I shouldn't think too deeply about her, because shit like this always happened. I got introspective, and hell. Thinking right now would just fucking destroy me.

I needed to do something. Scream or sleep or yell or maybe just fuck. I felt insane.

Rosalie kept snapping her fingers in front of my face and I finally slapped at her hands. "Knock it off, woman. Let a guy think."

Then I thought I really was going crazy because Rosalie was smirking at me, referring to my mink coat fantasy of years ago and I _swear_ I saw Bella in the crowd. Like hell she'd be caught dead giving a shit about saving the poor man's manatee, but maybe your mind sees what it wants to-

But no, that was Bella. With Benedict Freaking Arnold back there, soaking in the scenery and coming toward me, wallet chain doing the clanking thing again, smacking into the rich and untailored legs of Forks.

And she was just standing there, looking my way. I resisted the urge to rip the stupid ball cap off my head because she could never again see that she ever had any sort of effect on me. Never again. I'd see to this bet thing and fuck her right on out of my system. With another girl, of course.

Bella leaned back against the door as Jasper made his way up front, but he was waylaid by his mother. I became vaguely aware that Miss Mimi was flittering about like she did, measuring here and snapping there and occasionally pulling her greasy crayon pencil thing out of her bun, marking on people's hems and arms and in Emmett's case his face. He deserved that one because everyone knew better than to make lewd jokes in Miss Mimi's presence, but hell. Some things and some people never changed in Forks, and Emmett was no exception. He had a grin on his face as he swiped it off and he cheekily blew her a kiss. She harrumphed, but everyone knew she liked it as she liked Emmett.

Mimi had no kind words for Rosalie, though; I saw Rose get pin-stabbed at least three more times and I swear Miss Mimi even smacked her on the ass. Rose was used to the treatment, though, and she barely noticed it. My mind wandered for approximately point-three seconds; one of those unguarded moments where I found myself back at my piano with Bella in front of me, laughing. I don't remember what she had been laughing at, and it didn't fucking matter because it wasn't happening, ever again.

I was snapped from those point-three seconds by the sight of Bella in my peripheral vision.

My body was aware of her before my mind registered. I turned so that I was facing her.

Her lips were lollipop red and swollen from that Slurpee she was holding; Jasper probably doctored the thing with his freaking Bombay because even across the room, I could see that she was not sober.

Did she know she'd run into me here? Did she need to be drunk to face me now?

I didn't blame her. I could've used a drink myself. In fact, I decided that I would need to drink heavily to make it through another night surrounded by my nearest and dearest.

I watched in ridiculous slow-motion as she made her way through the crowd, that look of fierce fucking determination on her face, like she had finally found that mint condition White Album or seen Buckley strolling around alive and needed to be sure, now. Dark blurred eyes, dark under eyes. Her hair was wild and fucking fantastic. I could already tell she smelled musk and husky voice and Bella; she was beautiful in her barely-contained rage. Her long strides on short legs were purposeful and full of the promise of soon-to-be-delivered anger. The voices and murmurs of Forks' Finest were buzzing with curiosity and glee as the New Girl made her way toward me.

But no. Not me. Not me, ever again.

Bella was out for blood, and I didn't want to stop her.

I realized she wasn't coming to hit me; she was coming to hit Rose. And I was disappointed. Disappointed in myself for not stopping her; disappointed in myself for not getting to Rosalie first. Disappointed that Bella wasn't going to publicly humiliate me; disappointed that I couldn't get more of an emotional reaction out of her than the soft regret of "I'm going to miss you" that I got last night.

I watched in a frozen, stunned stupor as Bella advanced on Rose. Though it was minute, for a small, outstanding moment in time, I saw that she had aimed her body at me. She really was heading in my direction, even if her eyes were locked on Hale. In fact, I believe she was studiously avoiding me, but I was okay with it because I filled with this fucking fire when I saw how she was angled toward me.

And then all hell broke loose.

I shouldn't have been turned on by the chick fight, but hell. I'm a red-blooded American male, right?

And when Rosalie Hale was down on the ground, people hovering and screaming and overreacting, like always, all I could do was stand there, torn between helping the injured and chasing after Bella and wanting to drag Jasper by the scruff of his damned neck for taking Bella away from me.

I had a brief vision that that was my future. Jasper and Bella. Bella and Jasper. The United Front Against Edward Cullen and Rosalie Hale. And Alice Brandon.

Where'd Emmett fit in this mess?

I sighed a little and pulled out my phone, calling my father. No matter what happened, Bella didn't need another reason for Rosalie to be pissed at her. I spoke briefly with him, informing him that some tucking and nipping would be necessary, but I didn't get into why. The last fucking thing I wanted was to endure another lecture from my father about suitable ladies and keeping it wrapped and blah blah blah.

"That fucking cuntbag slutwhore!" Rosalie spat as Alice helplessly dabbed a moist cloth on her lip. Emmett had disappeared, probably realizing that he'd be Public Enemy No. 2 (probably to his delight) once Rose had calmed down enough to start pointing fingers at people. It kind of reminded me of the time those kids from our sad little rival school had paintballed the Homecoming ceremony the previous year when Rose won queen for the third time in a row. I thought that was as pissed and indignant as she could get. Boy, was I wrong.

"You, Miss Hale! I don't care who your daddy is or how many Tennis trophies you got! No rude words in my shop! You go. Go now. Ambulance here. Go. Get out. I send dress over to house."

"But the blood-"

"Miss Hale," Mimi said, her voice low and dangerous. Her accent was much more evident now, and she muttered a string of beautiful Mandarin profanities before continuing. "Have I evah, evah-" Uh oh. Rose had just suggested Mimi would turn in a garment that was less than perfect. I almost felt sorry for her, but eh.

"Miss Mimi, I'm so sorry! I was just-" Rosalie's words were blurred because of the ice pack someone had produced that was covering her mouth. But her eyes were wide with horror as she realized the significance of what she had just done. Her sexy mouth might have been ruined, but if she pissed off Miss Mimi on an Event Day… she'd be cut for life. Luckily for Rose, Mimi was feeling generous and simply looked her over from head to toe, stopping her perusal at Rosalie's mouth. She half-smiled and with a "hmmph" she turned away; Rose was dismissed. With a scowl, she stormed off, Alice and other cronies following in her bitchy wake.

It took a few minutes for everything to calm down; the furious muttering and whispers had all trailed out; only a few brave souls remained. Whenever there was an altercation at Mimi's, she usually shut down for at least an hour, just because she could. One of the many ways that wonderful little woman kept us all on our toes. It was quite thrilling, really, and alleviated the boredom. But not today. Not for me, anyway.

I stood there, still in my pants and unbuttoned cuffs. I just… I didn't want to do anything. At least at Mimi's I didn't have to think about things.

"How Dr. Cullen?" I heard her ask in her quiet, clipped bird voice. I didn't say anything, but shrugged. I could feel her hovering behind me, measuring or doing whatever magic it was she did. Mimi normally insisted on correct posture, but I just couldn't be bothered. I turned around when I heard her raspy wheezing. Fuck, had Rosalie finally killed someone with bitchiness? I turned around.

She was laughing.

"You such a spoiled man child, Mr. Cullen," she said, shaking her head and chuckling as she snapped my cuffs into place. I stared at her, mostly because, well- no one ever called me that to my face. I was well-aware it was true, but coming from the purple track-suited, it just seemed so ridiculous and utterly true.

"Miss Mimi-"

"Oh, you stop now. Your father should not make everything so easy for you. That girl- that wonderful girl. Why you no tell her you love her?" My mind was racing. Fuck.

"Fuck. I mean, shoot, Miss Mimi. I don't love Rosalie Hale. No one does except Rosalie Hale. At least no one would be so moronic as to-"

"Idiot boy. Not the Hale. The New Girl."

Oh. Wow.

"I don't-"

"Mr. Cullen. I watch you. Watch you grow and almost-mature. I see in your eyes, in posture. In the way you no cuff your cuffs. You hurt, you let her hurt. Idiot boy. Fix it."

Advice from an ancient, crazy, terrorist tailor. It had to be true.

My head was spinning. I had to get out of there.

Before I realized it, I was at the door, the jingle almost overpowering Miss Mimi hollering out "You send your father in; I fix his inseam- no charge". I had no idea what had happened to Tanya, but I could only assume that she would get back home somehow. The gentleman training that had been engraved in my head ever since I was a little boy twinged a little bit, but I'd have to deal with that. I needed to get back somewhere and collect my thoughts.

Sometime around seven, Esme swooped back into the house, ready to decorate my arm. The Doctor had flown up special for the event, and he and Tanya were having drinks at the Horatio, mostly to avoid my mother. Carlisle could never hide how much he still preferred her to all other women whenever they were together and everyone knew it, so he tried to minimize drama as much as possible. I had a feeling it was unavoidable this night because Mother had a sparkle in her eye and it just felt like that kind of evening- the kind that crackled with anticipated trouble.

"You look tired, hon," she said as I drove us to the Horatio. Most big events in Forks were held at the Horatio. If you couldn't book the Horatio, you were shit as far as the hierarchy of Forks was concerned.

"Yeah," I mumbled, keeping my eyes on the road and avoiding her all-too-perceptive if not glazed with booze gaze. She already knew too much, and I'm sure between her perception and Renee's seeming-truth seeking, they had pieced together that I had hurt Bella and was therefore a dick. Oh, God. What if she had heard about the Bet? Mother hated shit like that. She always felt like it was beneath her and therefore beneath me.

"She won't be there."

"She?"

"Oh, Edward. Don't be so willfully dense. We both know who I'm talking about. And if she's at all like her mother, she wouldn't be caught dead pandering to the sycophants and the entitled. The only reason Renee Hotchkiss ever showed up to any Black Tie Affair was so that she could sully someone's sable in the coat closet."

My kinda girl.

"Honey, Isabella's… different. But you knew that." I finally looked over at her, and she was perfectly serene in her immaculate white gown with gloves perfectly in place and diamonds at her throat and wrists glittering dully from the moon shining in the window. My mother, even when tipsy, was still a class act above and beyond anything in Forks. The entire continental fucking US, really. It killed me that I was more like my father at times like this. Esme Masen's son would know how to handle this Bella situation. Carlisle Cullen's son would just fuck until he felt better.

I guess I'd have to just wing it and figure out whose son I was later.

For now, I was going to go to save some fucking porpoises. I was going to smile and nod and hold my mother's arm. I was going to flirt shamelessly with old ladies, I was going to make sick, lewd jokes with my friends, I was going to high five whenever the Bet was brought up. I was going to act like Edward Cullen.

So of course the first person I ran into was Jasper and his mother.

"Jasper," I said, somewhat stiffly. To the day I die, to the day I am his best man and he's mine, to the days we're there for the births of each other's children and the days we see each other through our various peccadilloes- I will never, ever forget that he whisked Bella away from me at Mimi's. Never.

"Cullen." He sounded- tired? Spent? He'd better not be fucking spent. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

"Mrs. Cullen, I am, as ever, pleased to see you again," he drawled, easing into his "I'm so different and dreamy" persona. He took her arm and led her straight to the dance floor.

"Mrs. Whitlock," I murmured, kissing her hand and following Jasper's lead.

"Edward. You okay?"

_Sigh_. So she had heard. Of course. I'm sure everyone had heard. They were all staring in our direction, but that could be because people were always staring at me. This time their self-righteous glares were well within reason. Eh. The judgment would pass until Blaine blatantly macked on the help again or I won the game-winning goal or my father invented yet another surgical technique to bigger and better tits.

"Outstanding." I twirled her in my hands and brought her close. Jasper's mom was quite possibly the only person who could touch Bella when it came to the big "eff you" at Forks without going full-on-Hotchkiss. I always had a thing for her, but I'd never disrespect my best friend by fucking his mom.

"So when are you going to leave Tal for me, Colleen?" I gave her the only sincere smile I had for anyone. She would never disappoint me. I didn't know her well enough to let her.

"You turn eighteen in May, right?" She smiled Jasper's all-knowing smile at me and lifted her hand from my shoulder to tug at a strand of my hair. "Edward, you look like shit. I like the Chief's daughter. You'd better watch it, or I'll commandeer her for my son."

She would and could, too. "That sounded like a threat, my dear Mrs. Whitlock."

"Stop that Mrs. Whitlock shit. Mrs. Whitlock is my father." Her eyebrows knit together as she looked up into my eyes. I wanted to avoid her gaze, but her baby blues were soft yet intense as she tried to read my expression. "Wow. Stop torturing yourself, Edward. Nothing is so bad that it can't be fixed. You just need to figure out the right way."

"Why is everyone so up in my business today?" I grumbled, and she laughed in delight and our serious moment passed. I sighed internally, thankful that, as ever, Colleen knew when to drop it. We continued to dance and I continued the outrageous raillery that I knew Jasper was also laying on my mother, and the orchestra kept playing and I kept trying to clear my mind but I kept seeing flashes of dark brown wavy hair whenever a girl was twirled, and she was always dancing with someone else.

I knew Bella wasn't there. Didn't change the fact that I desperately wanted her to be. I just… I wanted to see her, to make sure that she wasn't as miserable as I was. Just because she was done with me didn't mean she wouldn't be in pain, and the thought that I had possibly made her feel even _half_ as shitty as I felt made me fucking crazy.

"Cullen." Rosalie's impatient voice cut through my pity party, and I looked down in surprise to see that she was in my arms, gorgeous and sexy, even with her slightly puffed lip. She had done a decent job covering up the bruise, but I had devoted quite a lot of time to staring at her perfect face over the years, so I knew the difference. I'm sure everyone else did, too. But Rosalie Hale was way too stubborn and bitchy to miss out on a big to-do, especially one thrown by her own mother.

"Hale," I said. I didn't know what else to say. I just didn't. But I could see that she was ready to get down to brass tacks. She knew that I had won the Bet. Fuck, it seemed like everyone knew. All the revelers were actually blatantly staring at the two of us on the dance floor at that point. I'm sure everyone was aware that of all the ass I had tapped over the years that this was one of the few that had escaped my dick.

"We need to talk, but not here." She raised one suggestive eyebrow and somehow still managed to look both pissed and hot. And man, that usually did it for me. But not anymore.

"I know." I was all monosyllabic tonight.

"Edward," she sighed, dropping her arms and grabbing my hand. She dragged me across the ballroom floor, a serious breach in etiquette, but hell. If anyone could get away with that shit, it was me and Rose. I heard tittering and saw all-knowing elbowing as I was pulled away, but I only noticed my mother's disapproving frown.

She dragged me into the fucking coat check. "Minks," she breathed, and it just really irritated me that all she could think about at a time like this was fucking. And how dare she keep bringing up my old fantasy about sullying someone's fur coat with sex.

"What about Alice?" I asked, no emotion whatsoever in my voice.

"Hey, nothing wrong with a little pre-winnings-collection celebration, right?" she said, inching forward and pressing me into the fuzzy, Chaneled coat of Mitzi Stanley. Under any other circumstance I would've gone for it, too. I realized I was a big fucking contradiction at this point. Wasn't I just saying I needed to fuck Bella out of my system? _Snap out of it, Cullen_.

"When you're right, you're right." I focused on her mouth; she had gone for eye makeup instead of lip, and I realized it was most likely because she had planned this coat closet seduction. Some things never change.

"You smell good," she breathed as I got closer. Hmm. Rosalie Hale smelled different. Fruity, maybe. Like strawberries. It made me think of Bella, and I had to wonder if it was on purpose. Probably. She didn't do anything without purpose, and her purpose was often to hurt or cut publicly.

I decided to punish her for it.

For the first time in years, I put my lips on Rosalie Hale's. She tasted just like I remembered. Soft and spicy and well, pretty fucking good. She whimpered, mostly because I was nipping at the corner of her mouth that was bruised. She deserved the pain.

So I kept going. _Just fucking stop thinking, Cullen_.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and opened up wide. Sighed. Little moans in my mouth. Hmm.

Wasn't the same. Dammit. And the fucking mink was prickly against my neck.

Some fantasies just aren't meant to be, I suppose.

She broke the kiss before I did.

"I'm glad you don't taste like skank," she said, a very satisfied look on her face. Good lord, what a jerk.

"And I can smell McCarty on you," I said crisply, pushing off the fucking furs and stalking out of the closet.

Time to go get drunk.

I hit the bar and hit the Johnny. I even considered changing to something stronger, but who'm I kidding? Edward Cullen doesn't change. I'd drink my scotch and I'd fuck Rosalie and Alice. That's what I did.

Several drinks or hours later, I was still at the bar, a "don't come fucking near me" slump to my shoulders. I was stirring my scotch with my finger, humming along to the Blue Danube and contemplating staggering upstairs to the hotel room that I assumed had been reserved for me (it was, after all, "my" room) when I heard a ruckus behind me. I was only half-interested until I saw what it was.

Bella.

Glorious and blazing, yet again, in completely inappropriate attire. She was wearing ripped-to-shit Levis and a grey hooded sweatshirt, her old black and white checkered slip-on Vans squeaking on the dance floor as she sidled up to Jasper, who was waltzing Alice around and around.

Alice let her cut in and then I watched through narrowed eyes as the two of them leaned foreheads on each other. Fuck, man. If I could never forget him whisking her away, how was I going to forget seeing them buddy-buddy on a daily basis?

Well, I wasn't. I didn't know how, but I slowly made it toward them just as she was whispering in his ear. She saw me coming, though, and she was pulling at him, leading him away.

_No, no. We have things to say, you and me._

I just didn't know which one of the two I was thinking at.

Fuck fuck fuck. Scotch scotch scotch, too much fucking scotch.

I managed to catch up with them as they were passing under the famous Herzog painting of Horatio on a boat in the Columbia, and hell. Fuck yes. The boat.

"Hey, Bell," I said, a slight scotchy slur to my scotchy mouth. Scoooootch. Scotch. And Bella. All that I fucking loved in the whole fucked-up world.

She turned and was all beautiful and fucking morose. I had never seen her look so defeated. And still so pissed.

"What do you want, Edward?" She was all world-weary. What the hell did she have to be tired about? I suddenly flared with indignant rage. Who the fuck did she think she was?

"We need to work on our boat." She looked confused, and Jasper was about to butt in, so I poked him in the chest.

"You bring her to the lake. 3am-ish." I held out my watchless wrist and stabbed at it with my finger. Sloppily. "Be there."

And I staggered off, praying I had time to sober up.

**Will he? Won't he? **

**Scotch. Gin. Scotch. Gin.**

**I need a drink…**


	17. Chapter 18

**So yeah… THE EDDIES AND THE BELLIES NOMINATIONS ARE UP. Go listen to the discussion on the podcast, plus interviews with wtvoc and limona! (linkage on the profile)**

**CONGRATS TO ALL THE NOMINEES. VOTING STARTS WEDNESDAY.**

**Dedicated to twat.**

**Bella**

If my father wasn't the chief of police up in here, I'd have been worried about my imminent arrest.

Okay, he was the chief of police and I was still a bit worried about my imminent arrest.

I abused the hell outta the Forks Angel Face hours ago, and now I'd shown up to save the porpoises, uninvited, dressed in generic name brands, and I hadn't even RSVP'd.

This had to be breaking fourteen of their laws.

But, hell.

I had to.

My everything hurt and I was desperate to make myself better…and the hours that I'd spent alone had left me in some kind of purgatory—could I save myself all of this cliché teenage heartbreak by just…being with Jasper?

So I rolled on my bed and I cried for Edward some more and missed him and wanted to be in his bed and tell him that he's out of his pretty head for letting Us go…but I'd given him that opportunity and so much more already.

I pondered Jasper and his smile and how he fit with me… and I loved the dull, slight ache in my knuckles, compliments of Rosalie's face...and then I got desperate.

Because his fucking face was burned everywhere in me—even when I closed my eyes, he was there. Even when I thought of Jasper smiling easily at me, his slow grin somehow morphed into Edward's condescending smirk.

And it hurt.

So hard and so sharp that I'd try anything just to ease the pain.

Anything.

So I slipped on my Vans, swiped at my eyes and went to see about the porpoises.

I drove knowing that love makes people mad, pathetic fools…

I felt wild and desperate, my hand clutching absently at my chest when I ignored the valet and parked my own car at the Horatio.

My keys dug into my palm and please.

Please.

Don't let me see him.

Please.

Let me find peace where I might.

And when I barged into the main ballroom my chest felt ravaged…but this tiny part of me soared and swooned.

Because I didn't belong there and people were staring and Margeaux Hale pointed and shouted and fuck—I'd never fit.

But I saw a glimpse of bronze hair and slumped shoulders and my body betrayed my mind, because I almost smiled…because I felt happy, and that aching part of me was soothed for the three seconds I allowed my eyes to stay on him.

But soon he would turn and still not love me the way I needed him to—so I whipped my head around quickly and sharply, looking for my might-be-salvation.

Jasper.

And he was there, like he always would be for me.

And that son of a bitch smiled at me, like it was the most good and natural thing in the world for a violent, deranged, pathetic poor girl to show up in Vans to support the porpoises.

And there was shouting and whispering and I heard someone calling someone to escort me out, but then Jasper was there and leaning in, so he could hear me.

"Did you need something, La Bella?" he whispered, like I had asked for a pencil in history class.

"Yeah…come on. Come with me. Please," I whispered back, grabbing on to his forearm and staring at my shoes.

Make me better.

Fix it.

Please.

Jasper cocked his head and he flashed his teeth; his tongue quickly ran over his left canine tooth and he nodded.

Jasper held on to my hand and he was going to try to fix me and—

"Hey Bell."

My eyes closed and I let the sound of his drunk slur rock through my body, and I loved the way it made me feel, maybe even more than I hated it.

Jasper's hand tightened, then loosened and my eyes opened.

"What do you want Edward?"

Couldn't he see I'd already given him everything?

Sex, confessions, love, friendship—I had nothing left to give to him—he wouldn't take it anyway.

"We need to work on our boat."

Our boat?

The hell?

Fucking Edward, drunk and beautiful and concerned about his GPA while I was broken.

Jasper stepped forward and in an amusing and sluggish move, Edward actually poked his finger in Jasper's chest.

"You bring her to the lake. 3 am-ish. Be there."

I watched him stride away, drunk but sure and I bit back tears and tugged on Jasper, refusing to think about lakes at three a.m. with Edward.

He was drunk.

He wouldn't even remember extending the invite.

Jasper raised his eyebrows and kind of shook his head before leading me out the door.

A valet in a cheap tuxedo came rushing up to Jasper, but he held up one hand.

"Nah. Not yet man. Thanks," he said, then he shrugged out of his tux jacket and put it around my shoulders before linking my arm with his.

"Can I take you for a walk, La Bella?"

"Yeah. Please," I said, and my voice was grainy and a walk would be good.

A walk would be away from Edward…but never far enough.

So we walked.

Jasper used his free hand to tug his bowtie loose, and the scent of tobacco and sandalwood filled the damp air around us…and I was comforted.

I felt safe and I felt genuinely cared for.

"Sorry to drag you away from your…thing," I said after about twenty silent minutes.

"Eh. I think…that this is going to be a very important walk," Jasper said, one eye squinting up at the moon.

"I think so, too," I whispered.

It was quiet again, and he walked and I let him lead me, and I was aware that most of me was still far behind us at the Horatio, but that was the part that was hurt and damaged, and then I was walking faster.

"What's the rush, Peach?" Jasper drawled, his steps slowing.

"I just…want to get there faster."

I want to get away faster.

"But, La Bella, you don't even know where we're going," he grinned and did this low chuckle, then grabbed the lapels of his jacket that was still on my shoulders.

My breathing stopped.

No.

Don't.

Please.

Do.

YesNoYesNoYesNo.

GinScotchGinScotch.

My eyes fluttered shut.

"Smoke?" Jasper asked and I opened my eyes to see him two steps farther from me, an unlit cigarette dangling from his full lips, his eyes lit with amusement and moonlight.

"I...no," I said, catching up to him, my relief and disappointment equal and palpable.

Jasper held his bent arm up and I threaded mine through his and we walked again.

"You thought I was going to kiss you," Jasper said, then lit his cigarette.

My face burned with the flame.

"No…no I didn't."

"Yes, you did," he laughed.

"I just…" I trailed off, my own grin creeping up, because, despite a broken everything, Jasper always could make me smile.

"La Bella wants me to kiss her," he teased.

"Stop," I laughed.

"I think you interrupted the very important business of saving porpoises because you wanted me to kiss you."

"Shut up," I laughed, no longer embarrassed, just…laughing.

"Well. I _am_ going to kiss you."

"I know it. I don't go around fucking with porpoises unless it's a sure thing," I grinned, glad that we could just keep this light and surreal.

Jasper smoked and I giggled and we walked and sometimes he'd hum, or tell me about other awful things Rosalie has done, and he asked about life with the fuzz…

And we walked.

"So…you were dancing with Alice…when I cut in. I'm sorry," I said, because I was.

"Nah. Don't be."

"Not going so well?"

"More like, not going at all. As per usual."

"Why? Why her?" I asked, not jealous, not mad, but genuinely curious.

"Because sometimes I see something in there that's better than all of us," Jasper answered quick and sure.

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes. Because I also see the vapid bitch everyone else sees," he laughed. "But…there is some kind of innocence…or, no…a zest or vitality—fuck, La Bella, I don't know. You love Cullen and he's as disgusting as they come!"

"I know…but hell, you love him, too," I sighed.

"I do. And just like with Alice…I don't know. Fuck it. Maybe I'm wrong about both of them."

"Maybe."

We walked under the streetlights, now in a neighborhood I didn't recognize, kicking a pebble back and forth to each other.

"I ate paste. I was such a paste eater," I said, now that we had moved on to the topic of childhood.

"Edward, Emmett and I got caught sniffing rubber cement in the art supply closet."

I giggled and went to kick at the pebble and missed, immediately and painfully skidding on my hands and knees.

The gravel and tiny stones dug in and Jasper was on his knees in front of me and oh.

This was it.

He nodded, answering what I didn't ask, and his hands went underneath my arms and then I was on my knees, too.

His forehead met mine, and his head shifted slightly and I smelled sweet gin and cigarettes and I was breathing too hard on to him.

"If this…if we work…Bella, I promise," he whispered feathers on to my lips, "I promise I'll be so good."

I gave a shaky slight nod.

My chin tipped up and I raised myself, so my hands were on his shoulders and he was sitting on the ground.

I hovered above him and he looked up at me, then tugged on the strings of my hood, and his soft, cool mouth pressed lightly on to mine.

His mouth was soft and musk, and my hands curled in his hair and he grabbed my waist and I was against him.

Jasper's lips moved slowly against mine, his tongue was soft, barely dipping in against mine and if I'd never kissed love…

If I'd never laid eyes on Edward Cullen…

If I'd never put my fingers into his thick bronze hair…

If I'd never known the power and pain and passion and truth of a kiss wrapped in love—

I could have stayed there in that street with Jasper forever.

But I had, and it had ruined me for Jasper or for anyone else.

Because there would only always be Edward, and anyone else would never make me feel what he did with his lips.

And once you had love, you simply can't settle for less.

You just…can't.

Jasper's tongue retreated back to his own mouth and

Edward.

Edward.

My body pleaded for him and twisted and it was like a transplant rejection.

Edward.

Edward.

"Alice," Jasper whispered, and then he recklessly flopped back on his palms.

My hands left his hair and I plunked down onto my butt and we stared at each other.

"Sorry, La Bella…I can't," Jasper shrugged, simple and true.

"Alice," I said, because I just couldn't utter Edward right then, but Jasper understood.

"Yeah. Fucking Alice."

"Yeah," I breathed, swiping at my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Hey," Jasper laughed, leaning forward and grabbing my hand, "that bad?"

"Nope. And I wish I could say it was," I sighed.

"Me too," he said, standing up and reaching his hand down do help me up. "Ahh. We could have been lovely, La Bella."

"I know," I said flatly, and a little mad—because what the hell else could Edward Cullen possibly ruin for me?

Jasper readjusted his jacket on my shoulders and held my face in his hands, peering down at me with a small smile, his eyes shining with some kind of…resolution.

Something had somehow just come together for Jasper.

I couldn't help but smile back.

He kissed my forehead twice and we resumed our linked armed walk.

"Hey, Jasper?"

"Hey, La Bella?"

"You're no virgin."

He chuckled softly and used his free hand to sheepishly scratch at the back of his neck.

"No, my dear, I'm sure not."

"So…why would being with me be any different? I mean, you have sex with other people than Alice all the time."

"Because if I was going to be with a La Bella, I'd want to be all the way with La Bella. You deserve that. You're not a lay, you're a lady. A damn good one."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Well, my dear, we are pathetic. We are tainted for others because of—"

"Them," I cut in.

"Hmm…" Jasper hummed in response, then his response turned into song and he hummed us along, and it occurred to me I was now stuck in pain.

No purgatory.

No hidden love for me, no hero to save me from this pain.

It was what I had, and it wouldn't be healed by anyone.

I sighed and looked at the black sky and much like Jasper, it offered no escape.

The wind had gotten stronger, colder and my legs ached.

I closed my eyes, suddenly fatigued thinking of the years ahead without him, of feeling like this—

And I was tired.

We must've walked for miles.

Hours.

And I was still an almost and Jasper was still unnoticed and would that ever change?

I inhaled deeply and opened my eyes, and there was a tiny white wild flower, possible weed in front of my face.

Jasper stopped strolling and turned me to face him, then tucked the flower behind my ear.

"Why?" I asked.

"A girl's gotta have flowers," he shrugged, and still we walked forward.

"Jasper. Are we going to be platonic life partners?" I asked, half serious.

"Maybe. But maybe we can do better than that," Jasper said, and he pointed up ahead and all I saw was black, but the ground had turned spongy underneath my feet…and I smelled the muddy air and the lake.

Oh.

Oh.

"You were…you walked me to the lake. You took me to…"

"You can lead a horse to water, La Bella. Can't make him dri—"

"I tried already!" I shouted into the dark, suddenly awake and pissed—why?

Why did he do this to me?

He told me to try—and I did and it didn't work, I got stepped on and crushed and broken, and that initial shock of heart break is cold and it hurts and I couldn't face it again—

"He's my friend. And he has it in him, Bella. I know it. I just know it."

"I'm not his practice test! I won't get cut every time Boy Cullen needs a life lesson—"

"Maybe I should be sorry. I'm not. It's right. I know it for sure now," Jasper said softly, and he put a finger under my indignant chin and smiled. "If I could be yours, I would be. We can't save each other from this one, La Bella. It ain't right for us."

It was quiet while I decided if I should cry or go for two assaults in twenty four hours.

Then the footsteps…I could hear the confident, graceful strides in the mossy sponge behind me.

My heart pounded and the pain and pleasure swallowed me whole-- and fuck it—I give up.

If hearing his footsteps can do to me what not even Jasper's kiss can—fuck it—I give up.

I'll look at him.

I'll take the pain.

I'll go home and cry and the next time I see him, I'll do it all over again.

Because I love him.

I turned to him.

"You came."

I nodded and strained my eyes in the dark to see his face clearly, because if I was going to have the pain, I wanted all of it.

Edward was there, loose cuffs, limp bowtie, hanging suspenders—he'd come undone.

Just like me.

His eyes stayed on mine and he shrugged out of his jacket, stepped to me and slowly pushed Jasper's jacket from my shoulders and handed it back to Jasper, then in one quick, sweeping movement his own jacket was around me, still warm from Edward—and the scent of sweet gin had gone. It was forgotten as soon as I smelled the scotch.

Scotch.

Edward brushed past me and for a second, I thought he might walk away, and I wasn't sure what would hurt worse—if he stayed or left.

Then he extended one arm out and quietly shook Jasper's hand, and I looked away, because somehow, I felt like I was imposing.

"La Bella," Jasper said softly, and I my weary eyes met his sure gaze. He laid his jacket on the mossy, damp ground. "Just in case you need it—it'll be here."

"I know it, Jasper," I whispered.

"Evening," Jasper nodded, and then he was gone.

Edward put his hands in his pocket and rocked back on his heels.

He was cold.

Good.

I wrapped my arms around myself, enveloping myself in his jacket and let myself imagine it was him I was wrapped in—because if this was going to hurt, I wanted it to hurt good and hard.

"Those shoes are godawful," Edward finally said.

Hell.

I brushed past him without a word and walked to the water's edge, briefly wondering how cold it was and if it's true what they say: a drowning being a peaceful death.

It seemed likely, with the soft sound of lapping and the way the moonlight was making breakable, delicate glints on the smooth surface.

But then, I'd learned it's the pretty, beautiful things that hurt the worst.

Underneath that sparkly surface was probably a chaotic, torrential mess of sharp stones and strong current.

I kicked one shoe off and dipped my toe in.

"That water is freezing," Edward said behind me, making me jump then quickly jamming my foot back into my shoe. "Jasper used to swim in this lake all the time—sometimes he still does."

"You don't?"

"Nope. I've never been in this lake. Not once. It's all muck and shit at the bottom. I have a pool. I was always too chicken shit to go in the lake. Who the fuck knows what's in there? "

"But…Jasper goes in, and he's fine."

"Jasper's different."

"Yeah. But the lake, it's bigger than the pool…"

"But it isn't clean like a pool—I'm used to the pool. I always know what's up with the pool. I--"

"Then why do you come to the lake?"

"Fuck. Honestly, I don't know. Because maybe one day I'll get in. Because I see Jasper in there and a part of me wishes I could just let the fuck go and get in. Because for whatever reason I can't seem to stay the fuck away."

"You could get dirty. Or cut on a stone. Or cold. And what would people say if the Cullen heir stripped down and got into the lake when he has his chemically clean, temperature-controlled pool at home?"

"That would be the risk," Edward said, squinting out at the water.

"Yeah," I agreed. "But, well, you don't even know what you're missing. I prefer lakes to pools. I would know what I'm missing. I have to have a lake. Even on the hottest day, I'd pass up getting wet at all if I couldn't have a lake…if I couldn't have the whole thing."

Edward's head bowed and it was quiet and when he raised his face to mine, he was smirking under the moon.

"All wet, huh?"

Hell.

I rolled my eyes and kicked out of both of my shoes and stepped in the freezing water until my ankles were covered in ice.

He could stay dry and clean, where he belonged, if he wanted.

I needed lakes.

"So…you passing up college for a career in cage fighting or what?" he asked.

"She had it coming," I mumbled through chattering teeth, holding his jacket tighter to me.

"You have a really weak right hook."

"At least I got retribution. At least I played the game my way," I shrugged, my back still to him. "She just…she took too much from me to just be able to walk away…"

I took another step into the water.

"You're going to get hypothermia," Edward said, but he didn't sound concerned at all.

He sounded jealous.

"Maybe. It'll be worth it. It's a good feeling."

"It'll be worth missing toes?"

"It'll be worth everything."

"That's just…stupid, Bella."

"Maybe. But I'm in. You just stand there at the shore, wavering, being a pussy. Wanting the lake, but not all of it. Not the shit that comes with it—you want to be able to go back to the pool whenever you want…but you know that once you go into the lake, you'll never be right for that pool that you're so comfortable with…but that's the thing about the lake, Edward…it won't be your almost good enough. It's all or nothing. So, I could lose a toe…but at least I tried."

"Whatever. I tried to get in the lake, but the damn lake didn't even—whatever."

"Whatever."

I stepped farther in and Edward sighed in frustration behind me.

"What do you want, anyway?" I asked.

"The boat. I have the blueprints for it, but we need to—"

"You wanted to meet me here at three a.m. to talk about physics class?"

I wasn't buying it.

Surely he had an underclassman to fuck or something of equal importance.

"Look. I'm preparing for Ivy League. I'm not sure what your plans are, but this is sixty percent of our final grade—"

"Your father will buy your Ivy League," I spat.

"While insulting, that's also true…but I do pride myself on my impressive intelligence and besting my peers. Our boat—"

"Don't you boat me!"

"Boat. Booaat. Boat. Boat."

He was being obnoxious and half-drunk and rude and why couldn't he just be him?

What was I doing here?

What was he doing here?

Circles and circles and something had to move or break free.

I turned around glared at him, barely making him out through the dark and the tears brimming at my eyes.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I want to build a damn boat," Edward shrugged and took a step back from the shore.

I took a step back deeper into the water, the cold seeping up painfully.

"Fuck you. Fuck your boat. Fuck the grade. Fuck all of it."

"Well. At least you're not bitter. Classy language, by the way."

I took another step back.

Edward did too, and flipped me the double bird.

"Why are you being like this? I…gave me to you. I told you I loved you and you just—why can't you just be different?"

Edward's face turned fierce and it seemed the moon-created shadows under his eyes turned deeper. He ran a hand through his hair and then down his face.

"You know what your problem is, Bella?" he asked in a low, husky voice.

Why yes. I fell in love with an asshole.

"Let's see…I wear Vans, I don't own a car worth more than my father's yearly salary, I shop at Target, I punch people at tailor's shops, I drink cheap booze, I don't have a personal trainer, I've never vacationed in the French Riviera, I—"

"Well. Yes. There's all of that. But your biggest problem is that you're a hypocrite," Edward said coolly, looking up at the black sky, hands in pockets again.

I almost laughed.

"Whatever, Edward—"

"No. You are," he said lightly and shrugged. "If you were half the person you think everyone else should be—"

"Excuse me?"

"You. You go around preaching all this innocent, equal, "so cool" bullshit—but you can't even accept the shortcomings of others."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You. You. You and your righteous little Miss Perfect Poor Girl persona—but look at you. I—fuck. I gave back and you walked away from me because I have past fuck-ups. And you know, I know I'm a piece of shit, okay? I know I did depraved shit to people—you included—but fuck you, Bella, because you can't even look past anything. And hell. You think I have loose morals when it comes to sexuality—but never once had I told someone I fucking loved them and then went sniffing after their best friend."

"I didn't—it wasn't like that," I snapped.

Was it?

"Whatever, Isabella. Just watch yourself before you go passing judgment."

"I. You. I will not be your almost good enough. I'm better than that and I'm better than you. I fucking gave you everything. I was at your feet. I knew you made that bet and I loved you anyway and you couldn't even…" I trailed off into harsh quiet sobs and he stood there, motionless, stoic.

My cries snorted and whined and echoed off the water and the moon and he did nothing.

I stepped back, further into the water, numb to the cold now lapping at my thighs, my hands clapped over my mouth, trying to silence the cries that just kept coming and coming, painful and choked.

"I couldn't…I couldn't what?" Edward's hoarse whisper came floating to me, and he took a half step toward the water.

"You couldn't…you couldn't be…mine," I mewed out, stomped on and pathetic.

I closed my eyes and tried to settle my mind and my stomach.

When it was quiet and I was sure he had left and my tears were dried on my cheeks I opened my eyes.

But he hadn't gone.

Edward was there, staring down at his bare feet, his shoes just to his right, his shoulders high and tense, his hair hanging in his eyes.

"What are you—"

He held up one hand and I was quieted.

Edward hissed through his teeth when the cold water lapped at his toes.

"It's really fucking cold," he said, and please, please don't back up.

Get in the lake.

"It's dark as fuck in there…I don't think I can do it," he said, his voice raspy and sad, and there was this thick regret.

"I'm here," I whispered, taking another step back.

Then another.

Because I am _so_ in the lake.

"Is the bottom disgusting?"

"Nothing we can't handle," I said, nearly breathless when he took another step and his shoulders rolled and his head tossed back.

"Bella," his voice called out to me, unsure, like I've never heard it.

"I'm here."

Then so quick I didn't even see it happen, there was a splash, an eruption in the smooth surface, and he had disappeared.

He dove in—he didn't hesitate anymore—he chose the lake, he didn't take it slowly—he dove—even though it would be cold for him and he'd never done it and he didn't know what to expect—he dove in.

I panicked and smiled and my heart pounded everywhere and I didn't feel cold anymore—tonight was the impossible.

The impossibly greatest hope I'd ever given up on—and this was it.

Proving me wrong—proving Jasper right.

Edward could do this.

Tonight.

I felt strong hands on my waist under the water, and then the surface broke and he was there.

Smiling a smile like I'd never seen, big and white and scared and excited.

His wet hair looked black in the dark, curling and spiking and dripping—he probably shouldn't have actually dove in like that it was freezing and—

"Fuck, that feels good," he said breathless and giddy.

The tux shirt clung wet and murky to his chest and he shook his hair out, making the water spray at my face, and I laughed, because this was

More than I thought it ever would be.

Nothing will _ever_ be this good.

But I was wrong about that—because in the next second his mouth was on my laughing lips and I was sinking into the water, with one of his arms tight at my waist and his other hand wet and cool on my neck.

I pulled at his hair, bringing his lips harder, closer and letting my tongue collide clumsily and sloppily with his and we didn't stop…because we were starving for this.

I bit his lips and he sharply ducked his head down and buried his wet face into my neck, not licking or kissing—just pressed tightly to me.

He held on to me tightly and I held on to him tightly, and we just hugged.

Like we hadn't seen each other in years—we hugged.

My legs floated up and around him and his breath felt hot when he laughed on my cold, wet skin.

His arms went under my thighs and I was hoisted out of the water, above him, held close to him.

Edward looked up, one dark lock of hair curling in his left eye, his lashes wet and shiny framing his finally earnest eyes, and drops of water clinging to his swollen lips…

And he knew it—he knew that now, he could never ever go back, the reckoning shown in his exhilarated, exalting, frightened green eyes.

I looked down and let my hands feel the back of his neck and I concentrated on his heavy breaths and his almost smiling lips…

This was more than loving someone.

This was believing in someone.

Edward Cullen had my faith now, as well as my everything else.

He half turned us, making the water swish and swirl around us, and then he swished us back around, smiling at me, marveling at being in the lake—finally.

"I'm in," he said simply.


	18. Chapter 19

**Voting is now open for the Eddies and the Bellies! Gitcher asses over there.**

**See, trustfund? We keep going, just for you. For the twats again, because you guise just make meh smile.**

**Now, let's see what happened at the lake…**

**Edward**

_So_ fucking in.

She leaned toward me, and I wished I could see, but she was blocking out the moon and all I had to go on was dark and Bella, the drip of the lake falling from her hair into mine, running down the side of my face. And it was some kinda cold but I was focusing on her, ignoring everything but her small heat transferring into my hands as I gripped her thighs tighter, desperate to feel _this_.

Perfect, perfect. This _perfect_. I watched her, tried to pay attention, but dammit. Once she was out there, at the lake, staring at me in the dark and trying to decipher whatever it was she needed to decipher… I was having flashbacks. To the sex. The lovemaking, whatever. The love. I couldn't think. The scotch was making it impossible to think.

"Edward," she whispered, and even though I was pretty sure it would be impossible to get colder, she pulled out my tucked-in shirt and ripped the bottom buttons off. Soaking wet- only two popped off and she laughed breathlessly, shocking me to shit with the icicle touch as her fingers tried to scratch my abdomen away. I cringed but she didn't see it, so I would let her grab me, freeze me, whatever-the-fuck me. She kind of crushed her face to mine, wiggling and probably just trying to stay warm. The light slapping of water and the disgusting squish under my toes started to screw with my equilibrium.

"Bella," I mumbled, and she responded by slapping her hands on each side of my face and pulling my lip between her teeth. Damn the cold, that shit made me hard, and I contemplated simply ignoring the nasty lake water and the temperature and the fact that I sort of hated nature and just tearing off her worn-out, shitty jeans but- no.

"No."

"No?" She pulled back abruptly, sliding her hands from my face and quickly down to my chest, pushing herself away. Problem was, this slick maneuver made her automatically lock her ankles at my back and her ass fell so that she was unintentionally (or so I assumed?) rubbing up on my cock. I groaned just as she was looking at me with hurt in her eyes.

"I thought-"

"Oh, stop. It's just- I wanna fix us, and Bella- I just came dangerously close to fucking you in a lake." She looked confused. "Bella. There's like- parasites. I have maintained an STD-free, disease-free existence my entire life, and I'm not about to start with lake paramecia." She took one second to go from confused to amused, so she just nodded and wrapped her arms back around my neck.

Stupid frozen lake. I just _had_ to dive in.

Because of Bella. I'd dive in to a fucking frozen ocean if she asked me to.

Sap,

I was holding this ridiculous girl, contemplating her ridiculous metaphor and standing in this ridiculous and frigid fucking lake. _I'm joining AA tomorrow, I swear._

Just because I took the great emo dive, didn't solve our issues, though. I was about to start grilling her on why she crashed the gala and crashed my life but I started to feel her thighs clench around me. And I might've misread that as passion if I weren't so damned frozen, too.

"Come on," I whispered into her neck. She shivered bodily and squeezed tighter, nodding as I headed toward drier land. She unlocked her ankles and it took everything I had in me to not drop her on her ass, I was so cold. But I just… Wise woman said _you hurt. She hurt. Fix it_. So I would. Starting with not hurting her anymore, or ever again.

But what now? Her teeth were chattering and I eyed Jasper's tux coat on the ground. I didn't want to see it on her, but I couldn't let her turn blue or anything, either. So I grabbed the coat and wrapped her up tight and pulled her to my side. I could hear the squish of her Vans and I stuffed my feet back in my shoes, glad that I had at least thought to save the Marc Jacobs. Tanya or whoever it was that bought the Missoni would be pissed, but I'd kill myself if I fucked up my shoes.

Tucking Bella under my arm and wrapping my nonexistent warmth around her small body, we started picking our way through the foliage.

"Mmph," she said, so I stopped and brought my head to hers.

"Too far," she chattered, her breath misting into my face, clouding around me, making me dizzy.

Maybe it was the booze, I didn't know. But I did know that I needed to get this girl warm, stat.

"Want me to carry you?" I asked, desperate to keep the chatter out of my voice.

"No. That's stupid. Let's just hurry," she chattered back, so I put my arm around her waist, ignoring that Jasper's coat was softer than mine.

As we shuffled toward the hedges of the Horatio, my body numbed but my brain was a flurry of activity. What was going to happen? Should I bring up the Bet? What would a smooth mother effer do at a time like this? Not Jasper, though. No. McQueen? Nah. Horatio? What would my sweet-talking ancestor do?

I am a fucking idiot.

A frozen fucking idiot.

The back entrance of eh Horatio was lit with Christmas lights in the trees and heat lamps in the periphery. I paused at the first lamp, tempted to unwrap Bella's hands so she could start defrosting. But I decided to just get her all warm when we got upstairs. Quickly.

"Mr. Cullen?" I recognized one of the bellhops as we stumbled in through the French doors. I saw the well-dressed of Forks just beyond and studiously avoided as I brought Bella to the servant's elevator.

"I need the key to my room," I said, assuming like a douche that he knew what I needed. And of course he did. I watched him rush off, presumably to the concierge, and I slapped the "up" button, leaning against the wall and drawing Bella to lean in my arms.

Bellhop Guy rushed over with the key and I reached for my wallet, slapping a wad of sopping wet bills in his hand. He pocketed the cash without reacting.

"I'll need two robes and clean towels-"

"Already on their way, Mr. Cullen. I took the liberty of having them heated for you." Jimmy. Jimmy was his name.

"Excellent, Jimmy." He gave me a curt nod.

"Shall I send up some breakfast as well?"

Breakfast? Hell. It must've been four am by now.

"Coffee and pancakes," Bella whispered into my chest. Her cold nose brushed against the cold, soggy white material of my shirt, and my nipples got harder with the contact. Grinning, I nodded and dismissed the guy.

The doors of the elevator swished open and we stepped inside- I hit the _5_ and we lurched up.

Silence.

Fucking silence. I could feel that familiar tickling pain as blood flow and warmth returned to my limbs, only this time, instead of waking from that night, the pain was accompanied by that outrageously amazing sensation of hope.

She had shown up.

What did it mean?

It could wait. The girl was a lakesickle.

Somehow, I got us back to my room.

The second biggest room in the whole hotel. I assumed Mother was still occupying the biggest, on the floor above. I further assumed that Rosalie was in the only other room on the floor, but I decided Bella just didn't need to ever find that out.

I fumbled with the key, but Bella put her now warm hand out and steadied me- I got us in and went about the business of warming her up.

"Th-the h-h-hell?" she said, knocking her teeth together. Now that I could see her clearly, I was horrified that she was so pale and soaked, the severe dark of her eyebrows and bright, blazing fire in her eyes the only signs of vitality on her frozen form.

I didn't answer and started to remove her clothes, starting with Jasper's stupid coat.

"Edward-"

"You need to warm up, Bella," I interrupted. Her mouth had stayed open, and she snapped it shut, nodding in acceptance. I got down on my haunches, peeling away her tight-ass jeans and rubbing her legs vigorously. Fuck. How could I have let this happen? My irresponsible, irrational actions had never nearly frozen another human before.

I finally had her bare and wrapped in a room towel, turning the shower on and letting the room steam up.

"Shouldn't you-" She was looking at me as she stood there. I removed the towel and lifted her bodily into the shower, smirking in satisfaction as her eyes closed under the spray of the water. She winced as, I assumed, the warmth made her capillaries prickle in protest. Her eyes popped open and we stood there, staring, her completely fucking glorious and me still in a ruined four-thousand dollar tux.

"You first. Lemme take care of you, please," I whispered. It wasn't a request, but more like a plea. Please, Bella. Let me make this right.

She looked down and nodded, her hair wet and melting around her head, shimmying in waves with each nod. I just stood there, staring. I wanted visual. I wanted to make sure she pinked up. But I suddenly felt perverted and intrusive, so I looked away.

"I can hear your teeth clacking," she said, and then there was sputtering as her mouth filled with water, and I looked at her again.

Bella's body was not perfect. She was not the ideal. I had seen her naked, but not, you know- bare and brazen and so wet. And it wasn't that I was turned on (but trust. I was.)- I was merely hungry. For her. Twenty-four of the longest fricking hours, ever, because I had assumed when she left me the previous evening that it was an Edward Paradigm shift. A change in the guard. And other futile metaphors.

Maybe it was.

She turned slightly, still tilting her face toward the spray. Long streams of wet flowed from the ends of her hair and I traced them without blinking, my fingers tingling with returned sensation and the need to trace the water over her spine. She was too thin all over except for her hips- they were slightly out-of-proportion with her waist but still perfect as far as hand placement goes. She was short, but not tiny like Alice; her dark hair wasn't highlighted or excitingly brown or sort of red or anything like that.

Bella was pretty. Not beautiful, but my kind of beautiful. Like- I don't know that I'd tire of ogling her any time soon. And I wasn't even thinking about fucking.

Well, not really. But she hadn't busted out the soap yet.

"Cullen," she sighed, bringing her arms up to wring out her hair. She looked over her shoulder at me, not coy or enticing, merely pleading.

"Get your ass in here before I have to call 911. You're going to pass out. Both your dad and mine would respond to the call, and that's just no good." She then grinned a nasty little sex smile and turned around.

I can do this, I told myself. No fucking until I make myself clear. Just- no. Fucking is how I got in trouble to start with.

I yanked the still-sopping tux shirt off and tossed it. Pants gone. Socks. And then- knock knock.

Irritated and scowling, I answered the door to find Bellhop Jimmy with a cart and towels. I brightened because hell, the man was doing a fine job and I let him in, pointing toward the front room in the suite for the cart and taking the warm, fluffy towels and robes from him. I handed him our soaking piles of clothing, saying, "Just… make these go away," and I gave him more cash. Now please, bellhop guy… go away. To his credit, he never blinked at the kid whose portrait hung in the gallery downstairs, handing over soaking wet clothes while in soaking wet boxers. I supposed there had been odder situations at the Horatio.

But it was time to focus on Bella. I had to make myself heard. Clear the air.

I also had to get warm. Water conservation, right?

Why was I psyching myself out to hop in the shower with a beautiful woman?

I realized in the long-ass three steps it took to be in the bathroom again that I was nervous. _Nervous_, for chrissakes. Now that I was much more sober than I had been an hour ago, things were starting to hit me with clarity.

Bet.

Rosalie.

Coat closet.

Fucking Jasper.

Mimi's advice.

Colleen's.

Alice's.

Shees.

With a deep, deep breath, I hooked my thumbs in my boxers and yanked them down. Bella knew I was there; I could tell by the expectant way she held her head and neck, even though her back was still turned toward me. The shower door clicked as I cautiously opened it and stepped inside.

I almost hated the steamy warmth because I couldn't really smell her, but it felt so damned good as I sidled up to the spray of the water, allowing my limbs to finally relax as I stood there, washing the gross lake syphilis off of my body.

"Warm hog. You're a damned warm hog," I heard, and I nearly jumped because well, I was fucking jumpy. And I couldn't open my eyes because then she'd be there, and I wouldn't be able to keep my still-cold hands from roaming and then I wouldn't be able to say what I needed to say and since I wasn't quite fucking sure what that was yet… I just decided to keep my eyes and mouth shut and my hands to myself.

I moved over to share the shower, but I heard a second splash and remembered that this was one of those two-nozzle deals, so I moved back and stood with my body facing her, head under the water and facing up; willing everything to just wash away. I'm all about new beginnings.

Starting with her.

I cracked my eyes open.

And fuck.

How was it that in our endless, torturous days of fooling around that I had never once thought to get her in the shower?

Bella's creamy skin was wonderful; Bella's creamy _wet_ skin was outstanding. I couldn't help the boner and I didn't even care. Her eyes were fixed on me, and she gave me the saucy eyebrow thing which just didn't help, but whatever. We stood there, naked and not touching. Ogling and enjoying and both still so fucking leery of the other.

"Turn around." Let me take care of you.

Deluxe minis of L'Occitane. Nothing but the best for the Horatio. I squeezed and paused before setting about the daunting task of washing a girl's hair. I felt utterly ridiculous and turned on. It's one thing to smell a girl or to grab her hair when you're fucking, but cleaning it is just so… intimate. I mean, I really wanted to get the lake muck off of her, but I was kind of enjoying the soft suds. And I tried not to watch as they trailed down her back. Nothing will ever be more graceful than that- stuff trailing down Bella's back, water trailing down on either side of her spine and sort of avoiding that area right above her ass. But I kept my hands up above the neck.

She moaned a little bit as I gently massaged her scalp, and shit. I couldn't help myself. I stepped closer. I wanted to feel her against me, make sure our skins and organs and everything were warm so that I could get the hell out of this shower situation. We needed to talk, she needed to eat… and then…

She leaned forward to rinse off, and she sort of stood there, letting the water take care of it. I reached for the shampoo again and she put her hand out, gently grabbing my wrist.

"My turn," she whispered, and I looked down at her and smirked. She was too short to reach. So I got down on my knees.

Her eyes widened a bit, but then she smirked back and took the little bottle from my hand. She was a whole head taller than me like this, and I enjoyed the height difference immensely, affording the tit-view I had, but I was looking up into her face, feeling the drips and drops from her hair, licking my lips when a huge plop of water from her nose spattered on my mouth. Never breaking eye contact, she squeezed out a quarter-size of the shampoo and rubbed her hands together; I noticed they were shaking a bit, but I knew it wasn't because she was cold. She put her hands on my head and I wanted to close my eyes because it felt so fucking good, but I didn't. Couldn't. Wouldn't.

She started to gently wash my hair and then she stepped forward and I was getting a faceful of the best fucking view, ever, and I finally closed my eyes and bent my head forward, sighing and leaning between her tits and letting her wash my head. Nimble, gentle fingers rubbing slowly from the crown down to my neck, her arms enveloping and making me warmer.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but it wasn't long enough. With a deep sigh, she pulled my head up and I looked into her eyes again, watching her as she focused on tilting my head to rinse all of the suds away.

"There. All clean." She was whispering, little streams of water running down her face. She wasn't looking at me but at some point above my head, her unfocused gaze questioning and wanting. Time to talk.

I grasped her by the hips and stood up; she gasped a little because I pretty much slid up her body as I rose, purposefully and slowly until I was just holding her, looking down and not sure if I should kiss her or not. Because I did not want to be distracted.

"Come on," I said, my voice cracking and I silently cursed my inability to stay collected, but oh well. She nodded and I grabbed her chin between my thumb and bent index, briefly brushing my lips against hers. With my other hand, I shut off her shower and then reached behind and shut off mine, never losing eye contact. We stood there for a moment, the quiet saying a lot, punctuated by the soft drips of the shower, the steam swirling around.

I got out first, shaking my head a little and grabbing for the still warm towels. She was right behind me, hugging herself and waiting. I wrapped her up and patted her down, needing her to stay warm. I grabbed one of the robes and she slipped in, her small body completely overwhelmed by the fluffy warm white.

She giggled a little, and when I turned a questioning gaze on her, she simply said, "You look like a wet dog," and then scampered out of the bathroom. Oh, really? I grinned and dried off quickly, tucking into the other robe and following her to see what she was up to.

Bella was sitting cross-legged on the large bed that was square in the middle of the room. Beautiful and pink and glowing and expectant. I resisted the urge to hop up next to her and instead sat on the edge, trying to figure out what I wanted to say.

"Your hair's still wet," she said, and then her hands were at my neck, up my scalp, rubbing the wet ends through and through and my eyes were closed because I was just so tired but maddeningly awake.

"Bella-" I said, turning around, but then she was just on me, arms around my neck and breathing into my mouth. Aw, hell.

So I kissed. And it was just too fucking good. Her mouth was warm and soft and tasted… well, like nothing, really. Just good. Home. I nipped and gently kissed with tongue light and not hungry, just testing. Making sure. She was still good, and we were going to be okay.

Never better. Her breathing was heavy and even though the robes were thick I could feel her chest moving, feel her pressed into me as I turned and laid her down, mouths never disconnecting and pressing insistence, drawing her lip between my teeth, kissing and loving and wonderful.

I shifted back to lift her, to bring her up so that her head was on the pillows and my knee pressed between her legs, insistent and of its own accord and then fuck, but I felt her smooth, slightly damp skin on my bare leg and this was just God.

"Edward-" she mumbled into my mouth, and I could feel it, taste it. The questions. The uncertainty and the longing. I moaned back into her mouth and with one long, sweet kiss I stopped. Sighing inwardly, I stopped. Because this was it. We needed to do this.

So I sat up, needing to catch my breath and I looked down at her, all beautiful with hair stuck to the pillow and her dark eyebrows knitted together, her eyes shining and happy and cautious.

We stared at each other for one full minute before she dropped the bomb on me.

"I kissed Jasper," she blurted out, and when I didn't respond right away she sat up. "It didn't mean anyth-"

"I made out with Rosalie in the coat closet tonight." Might as well get it out there. I mean, it wasn't like I fucked her or anything.

"What." Not a question. Just… what. She looked so fucking betrayed and I felt defensive and pissed at Jasper.

"Well, I mean…. Hell, Bella. I was just- I mean, you just fucking left and I didn't-"

"You kissed Rosalie." She had a look of disgust and wonder, but worst of all- she looked like she was thinking, "I knew it." And that shit made me _mad_.

"Look, that's just how I am or was or whatever. But you? Kissing Jasper? Bella. He's my best friend. No way there wasn't some thought process involved there-"

"Thought process?" She had the nerve to sound indignant.

"Come on, Bella. You've been in Forks long enough. You know I'm like this. But you're not. You're better than me. You kissed my best fucking friend." I was trying to not accuse, I was trying to not be a dick.

"Don't you dare justify yourself to me right now. Don't you dare. I fucking- just- I gave you all I had and I really am just this- what the hell _am_ I to you, anyway?" Dammit, I had an answer for that, but her robe fell away as she swayed and twisted and I could see her legs and the V of the robe was showing way too much cleavage for me to concentrate at five in the morning.

"How can you even ask me that?" I asked. Not loud, not accusatory. Just- how could she not _know_?

And then it hit me.

Boy, am I an idiot. For a four point oh, I am a fucking retard sometimes.

Much like Will Hunting, I had read about it a thousand times, but I didn't recognize it until just then.

How could _I_ not know?

I loved the girl.

Wow.

Revelations in the wee hours of the morning.

I didn't even know what to do with that.

Does love make Edward Cullen stupid?

Yep.

I looked at her and grinned wide and goofy.

And she just scowled at me.

Wonderful, infuriating girl. Scowl at me all you want, but you're _mine_ now.

God, I felt sorry for her. Because she loved me, too.

Jesus. This warm and constricting tightening in my chest made me grin wider, if that was even possible. Holy. Shit. Edward Cullen is in love.

Why couldn't I have realized this yesterday?

And I laughed. I laughed out loud.

"Stop that." She actually made to get off the bed, but I grabbed her wrists with one swipe of my hand and pinned her down. She struggled and the robe opened more and she was just _pissed_ at me.

"Don't think you can just go around fucking me and fucking with me and then fucking Rosalie Hale and Alice Brandon and you can just go fuck yourself-"

"Bella, you silly girl. Stop it." But her head was shaking and she wasn't listening. "Bella-"

"No." She managed to pull free, and I commended the Chief for teaching her that maneuver because she punched me weakly in the sternum and it actually hurt and she was up and stumbling away from me.

No. No more miscommunication. I was done with that.

"Get back here," I sighed, getting up and following. Where the hell did she think she was going in a robe at this hour? Not that I was making much more sense. Time to be clear.

"I'm in love with you."

That sure stopped her. She didn't turn, though. Just stood there.

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

I stepped closer.

"Make no mistake, Isabella Swan. Edward Cullen is in love with you."

"Stop talking about yourself in the third person. It's pretentious."

I stepped closer.

"Edward Cullen is a pretentious fuck."

"And obnoxious."

I stepped closer. She was right in front of me, her shoulders heaving and her curtain of hair shimmying.

"And a disgusting prick who fucks for fun." I winced at that.

"Not anymore," I whispered as I took the final step that brought me right against her. I raised one hand and put it on her shoulder, bringing it up so that my thumb was at the nape of her neck, sweeping aside her hair with the other and leaning down. I kissed her behind her ear and she gasped, melting into me.

"Never again," she whispered. Her arms were limp at her sides and it felt like she was going to fall, so I picked her up. Brought us back to the bed.

"Never again," I agreed.


	19. Chapter 20

**AN: Filler. This is pretty much let 'em be happy for a minute filler.**

**wtvoc: ooh, whaddya sayin'? more fail on the horizon?**

**This chapter's for angel; happy birthday, lover of rob.**

**Shout-out to anyone who's on a boat. POSEIDON.**

"Ever again," I said, just to make it clear as Edward laid me on the fluffy bed.

He sighed and flopped heavily down on the same pillow my head was on.

"No. Not ever."

"Even if someone proposes a bet in which you stand to win, like—I don't know, something you really want."

"I have an American Express Black card—I can buy anything I want. I have you now, the one thing I couldn't buy- and I'm pretty sure I lost my pride a while ago. I have no reason to take on another bet. Plus- I just don't want to."

"Good."

"Good," he agreed and rolled on to his side, scooting down a few inches so his face was in the crook between my shoulder and my neck.

"We're in love," I stated, because I could.

Without threats from Rosalie or fear that I would be rejected or hurt, I could just state that…and I found that once I did, it made me drunk with giddiness.

"Mmmm," was his muffled response, so I said it again.

"I feel like we should make a declaration or something," I said, putting my fingers into his thick mess of hair.

"A declaration?" he asked, slightly lifting his head and squinting one eye before burying his face again.

"Yeah. Like, 'Edward, I want us to be exclusive' or 'Bella, will you wear my pin?'" I giggled.

"Jesus."

"Are you my boyfriend?" I asked, letting the giddiness do the talking, the happy bubble swelling in my chest.

"I'm…hell. I'm yours. Call it whatever you want," he yawned into my neck.

"Okay," I agreed easily, rubbing my feet on his ankles. "Don't be tired, Edward."

"Bella. Bella," he sighed, and lifted his head again, his lids heavy and dark circles shadowing his eyes.

How had I not noticed that before?

"I'm fucking tired. And it's your fault. Grand gestures are exhausting."

"Well, if you wouldn't have—"

And I was cut off because he swiftly rolled onto his back and took me with him, so I was on top.

Edward's eyes closed and he grinned, just because.

Blindly, he used one hand to loosen my terry cloth belt, then he put one hand inside, his fingers not groping or probing—just touching me.

He kind of hummed, still grinning, his eyes still closed.

Edward's dick went hard under me, his robe the only thing in our damn way now.

"Consummate us. I'm tired," he said, and I think he was only half teasing.

I flopped forward and let my hair enclose us, and somehow, it worked…it felt like we were in our own world.

"I'm really glad you got into the lake," I whispered, half an inch from his face.

"I'm really glad you showed up at all," he whispered back.

"I love you."

"I love you, Bella. I do."

Then his tired eyes opened and his head raised slightly off the pillow and he kissed me soft and twice.

My hands slid into his robe and his skin was warm, almost hot—and I couldn't help it, I yanked the robe apart and lay my bare chest on his.

Edward made a deep noise and then we were flipped so he was on top of me, my robe splayed wide open, his lips at my chest.

"Fuck tired," he said into my skin, and my legs wrapped around him.

His body hovered above mine, supported by his arms while his head dipped and bobbed, kissing and licking my collarbone-oh, now my ear, my chest, my right breast, my right shoulder—he moved restlessly lower and—oh—the inside of my elbow, my lowest rib, just under my breast—up now to my chin—

I giggled and squirmed until he gathered both of my hands with one of his, pinning them above my head, then he went back to the kiss storm.

His dick brushed against different parts of my body with each move he made, making me squirm more, trying to line myself up with him…

"Come on, let's—"

"Yeah, yeah," he agreed, his breathing hard.

I pressed my lips into the top of his head and he dipped from my face and brought his lips to mine.

Then there were two loud raps at the door.

I jumped and let my legs fall loose around him and his fist kind of pounded defeat into the pillow.

"Who the fuck—"

"Jimmy. Bellhop. Our clothes," Edward said, rolling off of me.

"You had our clothes washed?" I asked, gathering my robe together and hopping up.

No one has ever just done my laundry, aside from Renee, but she stopped doing that when I was ten.

"That was really quick, too. Must be nice to be in Horatio's bloodline."

"Yeah. It's amazing," Edward said flatly. "When it's not causing blue balls."

I flounced over to the door and sure enough, Jimmy the bellhop was there with our clothes, washed, pressed, crisp and hung in garment bags.

Somehow my hoodie and jeans looked silly.

I took the bags and Jimmy looked startled.

"What?" I asked.

"Shall I hang the bags, Miss?"

"No," I shrugged.

"I see. Is there anything else I can get for you or Mr. Cullen?"

"Um. No."

"Well, have a lovely stay—"

"Wait! A tip. I should tip you—"

"Mr. Cullen has a generous gratuity automatically added to his room tab, Miss. It isn't—"

"Oh. Hmm," I said.

I felt like I should do something for the guy; he's been waiting on me left and right. I don't like people waiting on me…it feels unjustified.

"Do you want some pancakes? Or—"

"No, Miss," Jimmy said, and I think I saw a hint of a smile at his lips. "I'll be on my way if you don't require anything else."

"Oh. Okay. Go, and have a good day," I smiled.

"Yes, have an enjoyable rest of your stay," he said, and then he winked at me.

I tossed the clothes on a chaise lounge and turned back to the bed—

Edward had turned to his stomach and somehow his feet were dangling off the bed…and he was sleeping.

I grabbed a plate of pancakes from the cart and carefully got onto the tiny sliver of bed unoccupied by Edward.

And dammit, rich people know their pancakes.

Fluffy, light, buttery—I stuffed my face and stared at Edward.

He was mine now.

I smiled and swallowed and stared.

His copper hair was a mess on the stark white pillow, his lips were red, dry and slightly parted...and he looked so peaceful…and I knew even though I was awake, I bore the same expression.

Peace at last.

I let the fork drop to my plate with a clink then leaned over and put a finger on Edward's lip.

He flinched and slapped at my hand.

I leaned in and kissed one of his sleeping eyes, and then his lips, because you can just do this to someone you love, to someone who loves you… then I pulled back to watch him some more.

I watched for quite some time before I heard the muted, familiar sound of my cell phone ringing…somewhere in the room.

I ignored it.

And I ignored it again, five minutes later.

And then I ignored Edward's phone, ringing from somewhere else in the room.

Then I ignored mine some more, then his some more…for quite awhile.

I snuggled back down and tried to wrap one of his arms around me, but I think he growled at me, so I settled for just laying close.

I still couldn't sleep, so instead I fought the urge to make out with a sleeping guy, I fought the urge to grab at his hair and jump on his back and bake him brownies and sew myself a sash that says "Edward's Girlfriend".

Because he might be a pretentious fuck, and he might be callous and rude and arrogant and self-absorbed…but he also shoved all that shit aside and fell for me, which is more than I'd ever done for anyone.

I was proud to be his.

"Are you going to answer any calls today, or are your people going to take care of it?" Edward asked, making me jump, his eyes still closed.

"Huh?"

"The fucking phones are agitating the piss outta me."

"Oh. I thought you were sleeping. And you're my people."

Edward rolled out of the bed and went to the bathroom. I grabbed my fresh clothes and followed.

He stood at the toilet and I heard the distinct sound of his pee stream hitting the water and I grabbed for his cell on the counter, next to mine.

I scrolled his missed calls.

The Good Doctor

The Good Doctor

Alice

Mommy

Alice

Why the fuck would Alice be calling Edward?

I put his down and picked up mine.

Jasper.

Dad.

Dad.

Jasper.

Dad.

Edward turned just as his phone was ringing again and I saw the name Alice flash just before he snatched it up and answered.

"Alice," Edward said into the phone, and he stepped forward and palmed my neck absently.

"No…fuck no…whatever…"

He snapped his phone shut and tossed it back on the counter while I yanked my jeans up.

"What's your problem?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"Don't be jealous. If I wanted to fuck Alice I would have already," he said, dropping his hand and picking up the hotel-issued toothbrush.

I shrugged out of the robe.

"I'm not jealous," I said, pulling my shirt over my head, and I wasn't.

It's just…I had faith in me and Edward.

I did.

Nothing was going to come between us now…but we'd been fucked with by outside influences so hard…I just wanted at least one day to just be…me and him.

But I quickly realized with all the phone calls-- we were missing…and we couldn't stay away from reality forever.

Edward found the mini toothpaste and squeezed from the bottom up and then started to brush, still managing to somehow grin at me.

He brushed and I leaned against the counter, waiting for my turn—I didn't see another toothbrush.

My phone rang and he grabbed it before I could, holding it over my head for a second before his eyes narrowed at the screen.

"Jasper," he said, with a mouthful of toothpaste. I grabbed for the phone and he put one hand on my forehead, holding me at arm's length, then he spit in the sink and answered the phone.

"Jasper…She's better than okay…I sincerely hope that wasn't a threat…Later."

I picked up the toothbrush he just used and he raised an eyebrow.

"You know how I feel about that," he said.

"You know I don't care. What did Jasper want?"

"Just making sure your heart is still intact…and stop being best friends with my best friend."

"Don't be jealous, Edward. If I wanted to fuck Jasper, I would have," I said coolly, repeating his words and turning to walk out of the bathroom—but I was yanked back.

He had grabbed the waist of my jeans and then I was off of my feet, nearly horizontal, practically parallel with the ground.

I squealed and he laughed while I squirmed, not scared of hitting the ground. He had me.

Quickly he pulled me back and I was on my feet, my back pressed to his chest.

"Bella," he whispered in my ear, making me shiver and warm, "I don't fuck anyone else. You don't fuck anyone else. There's your declaration."

He kissed the spot right below my ear and just when I started to melt into him, dazed and happy, he smacked my ass hard and turned back to the sink.

Fifteen minutes later, Edward was dressed in half a tuxedo; I had my Vans and hoodie and we stood together, our hands clasped, staring at our ringing cell phones.

Edward raised an eyebrow.

I sighed.

"We have to—"

"But not yet," I said quickly, squeezing his hand.

"Easy," he said, shaking our hands slightly. "You do know I'm sure, right? Just because we're not in a disease-ridden lake or holed up in a hotel doesn't mean I don't want to be with you."

"I know. I know. But. We do better when we're secluded," I said.

"We haven't even—"

"I know…and it's not that I think it will all fall apart," I said, "it's just this is so new…can't we just have just this one day to ignore everyone else?"

"And I'm accused of being selfish? You want to hide Edward Cullen away from—"

I ignored him and picked up my phone and dialed Charlie.

"Dad?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"Oh, you know, the Horatio…"

"Bella. Get your ass home. Now."

"Oh, I can't really do that Dad…you see, I forgot to tell you I left early to work on my physics project for school."

"At seven a.m.? At the Horatio?"

"My partner is Edward Cullen. He wanted to meet here for breakfast first."

Edward didn't try to hide his deep laughter next to me and I swatted at him but missed.

"You're at a hotel with Edward Cullen? Get home."

"I can't. And don't worry, he's being a gentleman," I said, just as a warm hand snaked up the front of my shirt.

"Isabella. I can have five cruisers out there in five minutes if I have to, don't make me—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Dad. Forks only has three cruisers. Besides, I'm doing homework…and I'm trying to fit in…just like you said I should, so…"

It was quiet on the other end, and I had him.

"Keep your damn phone on, and when I call, for the love of Pete, answer it, Bella."

"I will. Thanks, Dad."

He grunted something and I snapped my phone shut.

"That was heartwarming," Edward said. "Come on, we gotta go."

"I thought we could—"

"Hell no. If you want to be left alone, we can't stay here. This is where I go. Everyone knows where to find me."

Soon we were in the lobby, waiting for someone to bring Edward's car around.

I pointed and laughed at anything bearing Horatio's name while Edward stood next to the grand piano, absently and one-handedly playing a few notes.

Jimmy the bellhop came by and I waved, and again, he looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do, so he gave a kind of limp wave back.

Edward rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Cullen," Jimmy said, then dropped his voice. "There are several messages—"

"What are they?" Edward said, not really looking up, two fingers still somehow making music on the piano.

"Your father called, several times, asking that I verbally relay a message to be sure you received it—"

"He doesn't trust me to read it. Smart. What did he say?"

Jimmy glanced quickly at me, seeming to hesitate and the tempo on the piano increased impatiently.

"He says 'I hope you're remembering to keep it wrapped,' 'Where the hell are you?' and 'I'm in L.A. until Thursday,'…and 'I hope you kept it wrapped.'"

"Hmm. Those are Carlisle alright. Anything else?"

"Erm. Yes. Your…Mommy left several messages—"

"Jimmy. Jimmy, you and I both know Esme Cullen is my mother. We also both know Tanya isn't even old enough to be my mother. And while we have dinner here and whatnot, Tanya appreciates the Horatio staff playing her game…but Tanya's not here. And she's still not my Mommy. What did she want?"

"She inquired about, er, snack. Do you want your Ants on a Log with peanut butter or cream cheese? And she also asked—"

"Just…forget it," Edward sighed, holding his hand up. "Anyone else?"

"Miss Brandon left a message, 'I need a ride.'"

"Psssh," Edward rolled his eyes and looked past Jimmy at the valet coming up with his keys, then brushed past him, absently reaching behind himself to grab my hand.

"Thanks so much for all of your help," I called behind my shoulder to Jimmy and laughed breathlessly and let Edward drag me along…to wherever we were going.

It was just dawn and the fucking sun was shining like a cliché…and I couldn't have possibly ever hoped for anything better than this.

I put my feet up on his dashboard and he promptly swatted them down and I smiled, because he wasn't Jasper, he was Edward…and he was who I loved and who I wanted, despite the fact that he was a jerk.

Edward fished out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, then smiled slowly at me as he pulled out on to the empty stretch of road.

I shifted so my head rested on the window and my feet were propped on his leg…and he drove us while I laughed and stared and he rolled his eyes and shook his head and smoked.

"What are you doing, after graduation?" I asked, because suddenly it occurred to me, fuck.

This mattered to me.

A lot.

"I'm going forth with the Carlisle Cullen Plan of Excellence."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I'll go to school and be excellent there, do my business, come back to Forks and continue my excellence. Haven't you heard? I'm most likely to succeed," he deadpanned, no expression at all.

"Oh."

"Oh? What's that supposed to mean? Are we…? Wait. Wait. Are we seriously having a 'what about us after graduation' conversation not even twelve hours after we've made declarations?"

"No…"

"Because I love you and I'm okay with that, but—"

"Shut up," I said, nudging his leg with my foot. "Don't ruin anything yet. It just surprised me when you said you'd come back to Forks, that's all."

"Why the hell wouldn't I come back to Forks?" Edward asked, taking his gaze from the road to me, his head tilted curiously.

"I dunno…you just…you could go anywhere. You're so much bigger than Forks," I said, and even I could hear the disdain in my voice.

Edward raised his eyebrows and the car accelerated and we drove in silence for a few minutes, then he slowed the car.

"Look out the window," he said, nodding to his right a bit.

I did and scoffed at the hideous bronze statue of Horatio in front of the public library.

"Come on now, that is a smooth motherfucker," Edward beamed at me.

"If you say so," I sighed and he shoved my feet from his lap.

"Forgive me," I laughed, sitting up and launching myself at him lips first, putting a hundred tiny little kisses up and down his neck, the side of his face, wherever I could see skin, while he ducked and jerked out of my way.

The car rolled to a smooth stop and Edward wordlessly pointed up at the street sign.

Masen Ave.

"Okay, I get it, you have weight here, but—"

"Fuck, you're underestimating me here," he said. "My heritage is here. It's my home. It's—"

"Like I said, you just enjoy the clout your name has in Forks."

"Of course I do," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world…and it was. "Anyway…that's why. It's Forks, I'm Edward Cullen. I belong here. My fucking name is plastered all over this shithole. It's not likely they'll do that for me in New York, Paris or anywherefuckingelse."

"True," I mused, absently thrumming my fingers on the back of his neck. "I wish I felt tied somewhere….like had roots somewhere or—"

"What about Arizona?"

"Nah. I lived all over. Renee is an amateur baseball league groupie. She picks a new one to follow every four years."

"Classy," Edward said.

"Don't be a jerk. Anyway, roots. I got nothing."

Edward patted the top of my head and grinned.

"I don't know about that," he said, then abruptly pulled a U turn.

"Where are we going?"

"The wrong side of the tracks," Edward said.

I shrugged, willing to go anywhere with him and turned up the radio and began to sing loudly, still enjoying my Edward Cullen Loves Me buzz.

"You shouldn't sing. You have an awful voice," he said.

I sang louder.

"Really. It's fucking awful," he laughed. "You shouldn't sing, ever."

I persevered, if nothing else to annoy him, and then I had to stop, because I faintly heard his deep voice kind of humming absently, perfectly harmonizing and well…I wanted to hear him.

I watched his lips form half words and listened to that deep hum while his face went from concentration to smile and back again…and oh!

I was fucking silly in love.

"Stop staring and get out. We're here," he said out of what seemed like nowhere…but the car indeed was stopped.

Edward reached behind his seat and produced the Target piano scarf and I grabbed for it, but he yanked it back.

"You have a sweatshirt," he said.

"You'll get a rash," I mocked.

"I'll risk it," he said, opening his car door.

Then we were both leaning against the Cadillac staring at the rusting Forks water tower…that actually now just boasted the word Fo k.

"Impressive," I said, not getting it. "It's not bronzed Horatio, but—"

Edward wordlessly grabbed my hand and trudged us forward, not speaking until we were behind the water tower…then he knelt down and he seemed to be scanning the massive amount of graffiti painted on and etched in the tower.

"This has been a great tour, baby, but—"

"Shut up. I found it. Look," he said and I knelt and peered where his finger was pointing.

RH + CS 12-06-89

It took me a second.

Renee Hotchkiss.

Charlie Swan.

My birthday…September thirteenth…

My head slowly turned over my shoulder and up and I met Edward's eyes.

What the fuck did he think he was doing?

"It's your roots," he said slowly. "This is where you began."

I stood up slowly, swallowing hard and clenching my fists and he stood at the same time and took a cautious step backward.

"This. This is a fucking rich kid joke, isn't it?" I asked.

"No…"

"You cannot look me in the eye and tell me this isn't something you and your fucking friends laughed at, probably on more than one occasion—"

"I can't tell you that," Edward said quietly, his eyes boring into mine. "I didn't bring you here to mock you. I just wanted you to see that—"

"You wanted me to see that I was conceived behind a water tower?" I asked, and I didn't even intentionally add the venomous laugh that came out with my words.

"No. Fuck. Stop it. You're not—"

"Give me your keys," I said, holding my hand out and then I was shocked when he actually did.

I tore them from his hand and he crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw set like stone, waiting for my next move.

I whipped around and dropped to my knees and set out about the tedious task of etching that shit out.

It took me a second to find it again, what with the "Jenny blew Robert" comments and such…but I did find it.

I let my fingers graze across it once and briefly wondered if it was Charlie or Renee who did this, and what their words to each other were that night…and then the tears were stinging my eyes and I just had to start to get rid of it.

I couldn't stand to be the Forks joke forever.

I dragged the key once across the metal or iron or whatever the hell it was—then a strong hand enveloped my fist and stopped me mid motion.

"Let go," I said in a hoarse whisper.

"Mmm. No," he said, kneeling right behind me, his lips at my ear.

"Why the hell not? You want people to come here and fucking laugh at—"

"I won't let you do it," he said, turning over my hand and wrenching his keys from my fingers, "because it happens to be very important to me now. Now it's part of my whole…thing, too. And I won't let you fuck it up."

I let myself lean back in to him and stared at the date and initials while Edward took both of my arms and wrapped them around myself.

"Did you really think I was going to be happy to see this?" I asked, because now I knew he wouldn't hurt me intentionally…but really.

What the fuck was he thinking?

"I thought that…I don't know. I thought if I can be proud of it, you can, too."

I laid my head back on his shoulder and his mouth turned up at one corner, and I was suddenly grateful the Horatio didn't provide razors.

"I guess…shit like this is going to happen between us," I sighed, giving up, because I didn't want to be mad at him and hell—he was just trying to be so damn earnest.

"It's not so bad," Edward said, gazing ahead. "I mean…it's no bronzed Horatio…"

And then I giggled, because he was probably the last person I should be with but the only person I would ever really want to be with or need to be with…he was bronzed statues and I was water towers and we wouldn't understand each other always…and that was going to be okay.

I sat up and turned in his lap, jerked the ends of the piano scarf toward me and kissed him hard on his pretty, stuck-up mouth.

I'm not sure how, but I actually got him flat on his back and his hands slid down the back of my pants—

"Wait. Wait," he said, on to my tongue.

I lifted my face an inch from his and glared.

"No offense, but…this water tower is cursed by unplanned pregnancy."

I would have hit him but he rolled us over and got me to my feet before I had a chance.

He kissed me as we walked back to the car, slightly bent and walking backward while I pushed him forward, hanging on the scarf around his neck and swallowing back giggles.

When I had him up against the car the giggles stopped and his hands and his mouth weren't playing around anymore.

Edward had one hand at my neck and the other clawing at the side of my shirt and his mouth turned hot and desperate and demanding on mine.

I pulled at his collar and his pants and his hair and at all of him…

"God…come here…" he breathed almost frustrated…and even though I was right there, my body pressed to his…I knew what he meant.

It wasn't close enough.

We wanted closer, so my fingers fumbled for the button on his pants for too long and he brushed my fingers aside and quickly unfastened it—

Then his cell phone rang.

Edward made a deep noise but we kept going and the ringing kept coming.

My hoodie unzipped and he yanked it from my shoulders and the damn phone rang.

I let my fingers feel the tight smooth skin on his abdomen and the damn phone rang.

"Shit. Shit," Edward panted, finally reaching into his pocket and ignoring my scowl. "It'll suck if the fucking phone keeps ringing," he shrugged and I grabbed for the offending phone.

Flipping it open, I intended to give whoever it was a piece of my sexually frustrated mind.

"Numbers are in, bitch. Odds are in Blaine's corner, I need your bets and—"

"Jasper?" I asked, immediately recognizing the voice.

Edward raised one eyebrow and gestured at me to give him the phone.

"La Bella. Despite what you may have been told, it just isn't endearing to answer your boyfriend's phone."

"What do you mean, numbers—"

And then Edward snatched the phone from me and lightly covered my mouth with his hand when I continued to shout Jasper my question.

I licked his hand and he grinned and pressed harder.

"Whitlock…" Edward said, playing with the ends of my hair when I gave up and leaned against the car. "Already…what time?" he asked into the phone, and he glanced down at me and seemed to contemplate something for half a second, before his eyes suddenly turned determined, "I'm in. Odds?...I'm good for double that…A pleasure, as always," Edward said, then snapped his phone shut.

"What the hell was that about?" I asked.

Edward grinned.

"While Jasper is known for his high moral ground as far as feelings and petty shit goes, he doesn't take the high road when it comes to gambling."

"Huh?"

"He's practicing the fine art of being an underground bookie."

"Jasper's a bookie?"

"Aspiring, anyway. Emmett's father, Blaine, manages a few boxers—"

"Like, boxers as in fighters?"

"Yep. A few times a year we make a few bets on fights."

"We're talking…rather large sums of money, aren't we?" I said slowly.

"If the odds are good—and tonight they are," Edward said, then stuck his hand in my pocket and pulled out my cell.

"What?" I asked.

"Call daddy. We're going on a field trip."

**Pray tell, to where, darling Edward?**


	20. vegas

**Well, well, well. Seems like Scotch is winding down. Dry your eyes, Rob. jandco and wtvoc will probably come up with something else.**

**Oh, and we wanted to make sure you're all aware of the outtakes for this story- "tanqueray & tonic and other assorted cocktales". I know a lot of you are still unaware that it's there, so perhaps that can help you cope. Also, you might wanna read the last few updates, just in case.**

**Edward**

"You're glowing, bitch." Jasper was such a smug mother sometimes. He strode into my room as always, heading for my closet, as always. One of these days, I was going to go over to his place and get my shit back.

"Stop being jealous, J," I said, not even attempting to keep the absolute satisfaction out of my voice. Why would I want to? I felt so damned good. Waking up and feeling like I had won the lottery was better than the actual money. It was better than chicken soup from my third nanny on a cold, stormy day. Better than baccharat for twelve straight hours on the Riviera, driving on the Autobahn, surfing in Australia, or even the smell of the Mint in DC.

Waking up next to Bella was the best thing, ever. And I wasn't stupid. I knew it wouldn't always feel this visceral, this fucking all-encompassing. So I was savoring.

And yes- I was probably fucking glowing.

So the hell what?

I had the girl. Cheesy as that shit is, I did. And I never in a million years figured I'd be the sappy type who would be okay with that.

I mean, hell. I'm a kid. I'm in love. I could just see the Good Doctor rolling his eyes as I explained this, and I rather relished the idea of telling him.

"What're you looking for now?" I yelled, rolling back over and smiling into my pillow. Her shampoo. She had awakened me unintentionally by flipping her sort of greasy locks in my face, and when I tickled her awake in return, she nuzzled into my neck and then fucking _tricked_ me. I was getting nice and comfy and ready to start fondling because we still hadn't fucking fucked yet, but then she reached over and pinned my arms above my head and scrambled up, grinding her ass all over my dick. Jesus. The wood was there, ready… and she giggled, mumbling something about "School time" and hopped up and into the shower. Fucking Bella. How annoying is it that I found it cute?

"No idea," Jasper said, sticking his head out of my closet. "I am rather discontented with the selection, Edward."

"Well gosh, Dad. I'm sorry to disappoint. I guess I'm not as unknowingly metro as we both had assumed."

He smirked at me and as he looked down, and his eyes fell on the jumble of clothes on the floor.

"What?" I grinned, sitting up and folding my hands behind my head. I was shirtless, but depressingly enough, I still had pants on. Like I said… no sex.

And I knew exactly why.

She needed to know that I had called the bet off. And I could've lied. I could've told her that I had done it. But I wasn't gonna lie to her. That shit ain't right.

Why hadn't I done it yet? I didn't even know. I wasn't considering. Nah. I just… the thought of dealing with those people just made me _tired_. So I avoided. What a lazy-ass fuck I've turned into. Dulled into the lazy because of a girl. I grinned thinking about it. And her.

"Hey Edward, I-" Jasper pulled up straight and filled the doorway of my closet as Bella came tumbling out of the bathroom, my dark blue towel loosely set about her shoulders. Oh, hell no. I threw the covers aside and hopped up to her, yanking the towel so that it was wrapped tightly around her body. No way my boy was getting an eyeful of those goods. He was too close to her as it was; I wasn't going to change that, but I sure as hell wasn't going to encourage them getting to the point where they were naked buddies, either.

"The fuck-" she breathed, looking up at me warily . Her wet straggly hair needed a comb, and the dark circles under her eyes were diminished this fine morning because we had actually slept for once. I smirked and kissed her square on the forehead, rubbing her shoulders and down her back through the towel.

"Well, good mornin' to you, Sunshine," Jasper drawled, and we turned in tandem to see him leaning against the door jamb. The toothpick was back, dangling down his lower lip as he moved it lazily with his tongue, left to right, right to left. His eyebrows were up, and I saw some sort of satisfied smirk slide up his face.

"Jasper," she breathed. She flushed, which was just freaking adorable because well- I don't really know why. It simply was.

"I see you've found what you were looking for," I commented dryly, putting my arm around Bella and leading her over to the bed. "But please, get your ass back in the closet so Bella can put something on."

Jasper eyed the two of us for a moment before turning around, an amused smile lingering on his face. He had my maroon suspenders fastened on the back of his pants and they were hanging down, so he finished clipping them and shrugged them onto his shoulders while Bella quickly stuffed herself into her uniform. I had managed to convince her to just keep some of her shit here because I didn't want her to leave. I would be her ride to and from school from now on, thanks. The less time I spent shuttling her ass across town to change, the better.

"K, Jas. I'm decent." She finished slipping into a threadbare old Descendents shirt that I swear was Jasper's from the seventh grade and he turned around, smiling in approval as he perused my woman in her short skirt and knee highs.

"Lady, you are the farthest thing from decent that I know. But," he sighed with affectation, bending his arms so that his palms faced the ceiling in defeat, "I guess I'm not allowed to ogle anymore. Right, bitch?"

"Don't call her a bitch," I drawled, putting my arm around her and kissing the top of her head. She shoved me playfully and smacked my ass.

"Get in the shower, Edward. You're dirty."

"Like a shower's going to help that," I said, but I smirked and shot Jasper a satisfied look before dropping trou and stepping into my bathroom. I could hear the two of them laughing together as I turned the water on; I stepped into the shower and allowed the hot steam to wake me up.

Today should be interesting.

Yesterday had been a wash; Blaine couldn't control his guy and the fight got cancelled. Small potatoes, anyway; Blaine had a new guy, and there would probably be a fight scheduled in the near future. That should give us all the opportunity to go out in style. It had been a while since we'd all been out of town, and I could definitely use the trip. Plus… it would give everyone the chance to see that Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan were for real.

Today at school… yeah. Eyebrows would be raised. I couldn't wait.

I took a quick one and got dressed, hanging my tie around my neck and flinging the blazer over my shoulder. Jasper and Bella were probably downstairs, giving Tanya grief. I practically ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, hearing sizzling and dim laughter. _Quit fucking entertaining my girlfriend, Jasper._

Bella was there in her uniform, holding a plate and laughing while Jasper flipped pancakes at her. How domestic.

"Glad to see you earning your keep, bitch."

"Don't call my girl a bitch, dickhead."

"Don't call my girlfriend your girl, asshole." Jasper turned at that one and frowned at me, but I could see he was fighting a smile. That's right. I named Us.

"Girlfriend? I'm just here for breakfast and a piece of ass," Bella said lightly, grabbing a piece of bacon from the counter and shoving it into Jasper's mouth. Seriously, this friendship of theirs was going to chafe my ass. I could feel the welling annoyance in the pit of my stomach, but I shoved it away. It was cool. I trusted the both of them.

"So. You guys coming out of the closet today?" Jasper asked, flipping another pancake without looking at us. He had an odd tone to his voice, and I couldn't place it. Suppressed pride? Awe? Something. He was probably pissed that I hadn't confided in him. Whatever.

"You mean, are we like, gonna hold hands and shit?" Bella laughed, poking him in the side. He ducked away and then poked her back, so I smacked him in the back of the head and grabbed Bella by the waist, lifting her up onto the counter next to the bacon. She grabbed a piece and stuck it in her mouth, leaning forward and moving the bacon up and down, waving at me. I leaned down and put my mouth around it, biting it off and kissing her in the process.

"Aww. That's cute and disgusting," Jasper drawled, turning off the stove and whipping off the dishtowel he had stuck in his waist. He flung it over his shoulder and grabbed the pancake plate, heading over to the counter.

We all stood there, eating pancakes and bacon and I, for one, was stalling.

I didn't want to lose this time here with my two favorite people because I knew it'd be a big fucking headache once we got to FA.

Avoid, avoid.

"So tell me exactly why our field trip was postponed?" I asked after shoveling a particularly large bite of pancake into my mouth.

"Cullen. Trust. And don't talk with your mouth full. There are ladies present." Jasper patted Bella on the head and licked the syrup off his plate.

I chuckled and stacked Bella's plate and mine in the sink.

"Let's book. People wanna see us."

"Even me?" Bella said, somewhat sardonically, somewhat amusedly.

"Well, the boys wanna see you. But they don't get to touch, ever." I turned and backed up to her; she leaped onto my back and we took off, her giggling and me with a big, goofy grin on my face.

Time to throw our love in everyone's face.

I let Jasper win the road race. I was having too much fun feeling Bella up and singing along with the Four Tops to really think about what I was going to say to Rosalie. If she decided to show up, of course.

Which she didn't.

"Edward," Jessica Stanley said. She had been leaning on the low wall near the front parking spots, waiting for me like she sometimes did. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Bella riding shotgun, but that didn't deter her as she sauntered over and tried to lock elbows with me.

"Jess," I returned, taking her arm off of me and twirling her around and away in one smooth movement. Bella was there instantly, so I grabbed her hand, kissed her knuckles and winked at her before putting my arm around her shoulders. She tried pretty damned hard to play it cool, but I saw her smirking out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh. My. God. Tell me you just saw that. Tell me you just fucking _saw_ that." Jessica was pretty pissed, and that made Bella's self-satisfied grin all-out _nasty_, and sexy as hell.

"There's one less catty bitch I'll have to invite to my Coming Out," Bella murmured, still staring forward, determined to not make a show of landing the biggest, brightest fish in the Forks koi pond.

"Your ignorance is charming, love," I laughed. "You have to be recommended by someone uppity before you can Deb."

"Hey. If I wanted to do it, I'd fucking do it."

"And we all know you're a fan of doing it," came Emmett's voice from behind us. He had Alice on his back, whooping and giggling and wearing a purple cowboy hat. I raised my eyebrows in question.

"I thought Rosalie got the school board to pass that 'no hats' rule," I commented dryly. We were all headed toward the main building, a thousand eyes staring at my arm. Or, rather- under my arm.

"Screw that. I wanted to wear my new trailer park couture. It's my tribute to the new Forks It Girl." I narrowed my eyes, but Alice was grinning mischievously- not her usual sycophantic simper.

"Alice is all about statement pieces this season," Jasper drawled from another direction, and he jogged over, stopping right in front of us. The Middle of Forks watched as the school royalty played. Jasper crouched down and Alice neatly dropped from Emmett's back and tossed her bag at me, the Fendi logo nearly scratching my face. She climbed up onto Jasper's shoulders and hollered out, "Queen of the hill!"

Jasper stood up and she squealed, her cute little ass peaking out as she leaned down to clasp Jasper's hands, yelling nonsense cowboy-speak in a really bad accent.

"Those two," Emmett chuckled, shaking his head and putting his arm around Bella from the other side. "Hop up, Bella. We can play chicken. It's a motherfucking guarantee that we'd own. Oh, fuck you, Cullen. Don't you growl at me. These here hands can behave. I respect." He made a show of wiggling his fingers suggestively, but Bella smacked him before I could.

"So, no Rosalie today? No way Alice defies to her face." I tried to keep emotion out of my voice, but I was sort of disappointed. I realized I wanted the opportunity to tell Rosalie where she could shove it, what object to use to shove it, and the amount of force required to do the shoving.

"That shit would be funny, brah. And probably a turn-on, cousin or not," Emmett returned. He winked at some freshmen, pausing at his locker to lean on his elbow, mesmerizing and captivating and just… doing the same fucking thing we always did.

"I'm bored," I pronounced, thumping my own locker twice with the heel of my palm. It popped open and I grabbed both my and Bella's Lit books before turning to lean.

"Already? We just got here," Bella said, running her splayed fingers over my ribs.

"Come on, playahs. You got some shit to look forward to."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Your tux clean?"

Fuck yes.

"Don't you tease me, McCarty."

"What?" Bella was adorable when she was clueless.

"My father… dabbles in many things-"

"Maids," I said.

"Fu-"

"Collecting vintage pornography." Jasper sidled up again, his books under one arm and Alice under another.

"Sho' 'nuff. Assholes. No, I was going to say-"

"Tool around town in an 'I have a small dick' mobile," supplied Bella, earning a high five from Jasper and a one-armed hug from me.

"Fuck you jackoffs," Emmett said, stalking off and trailing his fingertips along lockers as he drifted off.

"We shoulda let him talk, bitch," Jasper said, falling in next to me as we followed Biggie. Bella ran ahead, tugging at Emmett's arm and whispering in his ear. Whatever she said worked, too, because he laughed and put his arm around her, opening to door to Lit class.

Jasper closed one eye and looked me up and down. "You okay with Eazy-E there jockin' up on your lady like that?"

"What? Sure. I trust her." Of course I did.

"Huh." He looked smug.

"What, bitch?" I sounded tired and wary.

"Oh, nothin'. I just enjoy being right, is all."

And the week passed as such. Rosalie gone, Alice being a social butterfly-slash-Independent Women Part 1, and everyone giving me and my girlfriend either the stink eye or skeptical glances.

As it turned out, we didn't give a shit. At all.

Friday arrived, the giddy excitement of expectation hitting us. It would seem that Blaine was throwing Jasper to the wolves, as it were- part of his "Sports Book Training Program."

Saturday.

Vegas.

Fight Night.

Ringside.

Rat packing it with tuxes and booze and hankies in the breast pocket.

Vintage dresses with those crazy heels and gloves and handbags.

We always Dino-ed the shit out of Vegas when it was Fight Night.

And I was looking forward to seeing Bella all gussied up.

And in another hotel room. We always stayed at the Golden Nugget. Emmett insisted on it. The MGM Grand sucks, and fuck the Bellagio.

It would be the perfect opportunity to get the hell outta Dodge. While Bella and I got a lot of face time in that whole week, it had been difficult to be alone.

So I decided right then and there as we poured into homeroom on Friday, all loud and rude and _us_, that I would just need to fuck my girlfriend in a hotel room in Nevada.

It's good to have goals.

But I had to keep my eyes on the prize, acting irritated yet patient for the weekend. For one thing, the kids at school were not only following me around like they did, but now there was a whole other element involved- the new girl. The two of us together were high school gossip gold, and everyone seemed to be waiting to see if we were going to be like Woodward and Newman or Spears and Federline.

Then there was the homefront. Mommy was out of control, inviting Bella over to dinner and insisting on "family time".

Carlisle made a sudden week-long appearance, probably trying to ensure that I didn't do a repeat Hotchkiss snafu. It was really annoying, and it put a damper on the whole I-just-wanna-bone thing. We were both feeling pressure, and we hadn't done anything to relieve that pressure aside from heavy petting and dirty talk. You know, the usual.

My father had greeted the news that we were Vegasing with raised brows.

"I know. I've got a Costco-sized box of Trojans in my carry-on," I said, grinning cheekily as I cut him off before he even began. We were having a "nice family dinner"- prime rib, baked potatoes, green beans and uptight, stiff-necked judgment. The Doctor at the head of the table and Mommy next to him, Bella to his right and me just off in the distance.

"I was going to recommend not betting against Blaine this go-round," he said testily, tucking his napkin into his lap and folding his hands under his chin while Tanya cut his meat. She even diced his green beans into neat little bite-sized cylinders. I could see Bella's shoulders shake as she looked anywhere but the table, but I outright snorted.

"What? Tal tells me the new guy is spectacular," my father added crisply. He then asked about our day, Bella's father, her goals in life, my willingness to apply to John Hopkins Med. Business as usual.

Then, as if to prevent any copulation, they insisted we go out and get ice cream. At Mommy's behest, of course. Carlisle suggested that Bella be returned home since we had such a big weekend ahead of us, and I humored him, for once.

I'd get my turn with her. I even recommended she actually stay home and get a good night's sleep, so she punished me by withholding tongue and slapped my hands away when I went to grab her tits.

The next morning, Jasper picked us up and we headed over to Port Angeles to board the jet. We were the last there since I can't ever be bothered to arrive anywhere on time, and it's not like they'd leave without me. Everyone was finally getting used to my holding Bella's hand, and hell. I was getting used to it, too.

A short jet jaunt later found us in Vegas. The girls were bitching that we were going to be on Fremont yet again, and Emmett had to control his anger over Lauren's last-minute pleas to stay at the Mirage or New York, New York. He simply ignored her whining.

I slung my garment bag over my shoulder and led Bella off the jet Tal Whitlock had chartered so that we could all have our weekend of fun.

"Vegas, baby. Vegas!" Emmett shouted, earning groans from all and sundry. There was about twenty of us there, everyone giddy with the thought of acting like mini Adults out in the desert. It was hot as fuck and Bella was the only one intelligent enough to be wearing next to nothing. She didn't give a shit, unlike the high-maintenance girls in their melting makeup and platforms or whatever the hell those shoes were called. Bella was in daisy dukes and a skanky top, her hair up in a ponytail and looking delicious. I grabbed her bag and we all trudged off the jet and onto the tarmac, the heat sheeting off in waves as we made our way to the line of limos waiting to escort us to Fremont.

"…so money!" Emmett was saying, and I had to stifle my laughter.

"What the hell is Vince Vaughn's deal over there?" Bella giggled, tugging on one of my belt loops as she slipped into the limo. I pulled her onto my lap so that the leather of the seat wouldn't stick to her bare skin, and a bunch of others crammed into the back with us, Rosalie included. Bella's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Good girl. We would ignore.

"Emmett drops the gangster-speak for one reason, and one reason only: Vegas." Rosalie was speaking to her fingernails as she pretended to inspect them, but I noticed everyone in the limo watching as the two most popular girls in school pretended to have a civilized conversation. It was like watching a TV show where you knew clipping the wrong wire would make the bomb explode, and you weren't sure if someone was about to cut the green or the blue or what. But fuck, it was exhilarating just watching those needle-nosed pliers hover over the mess of cables. I, for one, expected my lady to be the class act, but she was a bit… hot-tempered when it came to Rosalie. We had all seen the direct evidence of that.

"Aw, come on, Rosie. What's more gangsta than dressing like Sammy D?" Emmett put his arm around her thin shoulders and squeezed. The scar was nearly gone, revealed only when Rose scowled or grinned her cheesy, fake Student President smile. Which was often.

"I just don't see why we can't vary the routine," she said through clenched teeth. Rosalie Hale had not been having the greatest week. She was out for four days, returning only to show up for the rally in which nothing seemed to go her way. She had ranted about "Forks Academy going to the Indy 500" in her absence, but the truth was that she couldn't stand things going on without her there to bitch the entire time. I, for one, loved seeing her pissed, but I certainly wasn't going to say anything about it. That was unseemly.

Ah, the Golden Nugget. I have no use for the family-themed entertainments of New Vegas. Turning twenty-one was something I looked forward to- legal gambling. I could've gotten away with being on the casino floor, but good things can come to those who wait.

Or to those who dive in. Bella had her arms around my waist, her face pressed into my sweaty tshirt as I flicked my Black card at the front desk girl.

"Don't be such a dick," Jasper said, flashing a toothy smile to the help as I accepted the room key. The clatter and chatter of excited rich kids swept me up, pulling me in. I whipped around and laid a kiss on my girl, happy to simply be.

"So Bella. Are you glomming off of Edward's trust fund already? We all usually get our own rooms when we come here. It shows a certain sophistication that-"

"Eat a dick, Hale. I don't glom off of him, but I do blow him. Sharing just makes sense." I could feel Bella tensing next to me, trying to restrain herself. Aww. I was so proud of her sometimes.

"Whatever, Springer Spawn."

"Don't be so bitter, Rosalie. It causes creases around the corners of your mouth. You know, near your scar."

"Botox, darling. I can fix those right on up and look just fine, and you'll still be trashing it up and classless."

"Ouchie. Good one. I'd rather be trashy than a well-dressed, jealous leader of lemmings."

That one got her. Rosalie bristled visibly, tossing her hair over shoulder as we all proceeded to the elevator.

"Jealous? Of you? Please. I-"

"-Shouldn't make bets you can't win."

Ohh. _Now_ she's pissed. I didn't even bother to suppress my triumphant grin. The elevator suddenly felt a lot smaller.

"Just because Edward-"

"Don't you fucking say his name. You don't get to say his name anymore."

"What're you going to do, claw my eyes out this time?"

"I see no point, although I guess with the economy being what it is, your plastic surgery would feed the various staff member's families for a week. You could throw in a tit job, too."

"Ho-kay, this elevator is too small for you beautiful babies with your naughty little mouths." Emmett was trying to diffuse the tension, but I was rather enjoying it.

The ding of our floor startled as we separated into clusters. Emmett and Rose and Alice always fought over those suites with stairs and shit, but Jas and I always preferred one of the towers. They keep you honest.

"What, no liveried bellboys to warm your towels for you?" Bella flopped onto the big bed as I set our stuff down, the little bit of frayed hem left on her dukes hypnotizing me as they brushed against her not-oft exposed skin. Well, not-oft exposed to everyone else, anyway.

"Take a picture." She turned slightly, her hands under her cheek as she studied me. She would've looked kind of angelic if her ass cheeks hadn't been all round and sexy and taunting me.

And just like that, I was at half-chubb. I was a patient man, but eff all the recent cockblocking. Mommy, the Good Doctor, Rosalie, Jasper, the pizza guy, Jimmy the bellhop, my cell phone, Junior Guy doing our boat project, the maids. I felt like everyone was trying to keep me from getting laid.

Hence the lure of Vegas and a non-Horatio hotel room for just the two of us.

"Can I help you find something?" She sounded amused, and I stepped forward, realizing I had been standing there, leering and rubbing my chest with my palm.

"You most certainly can. Just don't move."

I walked over to the bed. "The desert is hot."

"Mm. Yes."

"I'm all sweaty."

"So take your fucking shirt off."

"Kay." I heard her near-silent inhalation as my shirt got briefly caught on my ears. Smirking, I flipped it over my head and stood there, ogling. When my eyes roved from her bare, freshly smoothed legs and up to her face, she made direct eye contact and then moved her hand, beckoning me with a crooked finger.

Smiling, I crawled up on the bed and over her, nudging her from sideways to flat on her back with my knees. She lay underneath me, staring and breathing and love pouring out of her eyes.

Yes. God. How had I never been here before?

Who even cared. I was here now.

And just like that, I got a little overwhelmed. I mean, fuck. I had been waiting for some serious alone time for ages, and there we were- some of us half-naked- and I wasn't moving. Just, you know. Looking. Hell.

Luckily, Bella doesn't freeze under pressure. She put her hand on my skin and gave a soft smile that I knew was reserved for me.

"Hey," she murmured, and that soft request did it. I leaned down and smiled at her, brushing my bottom lip side to side and across her mouth. That single contact point made me buzz down to my feet. Her hot breath in my mouth made me chuckle, but not because it was funny. More like I felt like a mosquito in a nudist camp- I knew what I had to do, I just didn't know where to begin. Laughing at that thought, my head fell down and I pressed my forehead onto hers.

"What, laughing at how you've realized that you're too good for me?" she said, and I stopped abruptly and gently grabbed her chin.

"Nope. So not true. Don't be retarded."

"Don't make fun of the disabled. You're such a fucking elitist."

"Mm hmm. Make out with the entitled asshole, please."

"Okay." We were being silly, and I realized that this- this silly ridiculousness- was just what had been missing from my existence.

So we made out. Slowly and pressing, lips mashed. Questing and requesting. Open, tongues and soft curves. The salt of her neck was delicious and the sweet of her collarbone even better. I rolled, bringing her with me and on me, our legs sticking and stuck and her hands grabbing, pinching and the occasional twisting of the hairs on the ole happy trail making me tingle and tickle right on down to my dick.

I ran a trail up her sweaty back with my fingertips and then back down until my hands were in her shorts, cupping and squeezing, her girly squeals against my mouth hot and endearing at the same time. I probably would've rounded another base if my damned phone hadn't started to blare that annoyingly catchy Flo Rida shit.

"Alice," I groaned, and glancing at the clock, I realized that it was an hour 'til pre-fight cocktails, aka time for Alice to warn everyone to get dressed.

"The best cockblocker Forks has to offer," Bella muttered, getting up on her knees and straightening her damned shirt. Sighing, I hopped up and lifted Bella bridal-style, setting her down just in front of the bathroom.

"What, you're not joining me?" She lifted her eyebrow, all saucy and folding her arms. Down, boy.

"We'd never leave, and the last thing I need is someone banging on that door, demanding we stop fucking and start throwing money around."

"Funny. I thought your betting days were over." She flipped around and whipped her shift off before shutting the door in my face.

Uh oh? She wasn't really mad, was she? I fucking hoped not. I mean, betting money on a fight and betting for threesomes with skanky… _wait_.

I still hadn't officially called off the bet.

Fuuuuuck.

I waited patiently while Bella got ready. Alice came over at some point and kicked my ass outta my own hotel room, so I grabbed my suit out of the garment bag we were sharing and hightailed over to Jasper's. I found Emmett there, the two of them swilling teeny, tiny bottles of whatever.

"Didja swipe the maid's cart again?"

Emmett looked offended.

"Rosario's a very nice woman. She let us have the cart for nothing but a smile and some sweet talk."

"Rosana, douche. And I slipped her some bills when your back was turned." Jasper craned his neck to look at me, tossing me two Chivas. I twisted them open and tossed 'em down my throat simultaneously.

"Hand me more, bitch."

"Gone, bitch."

"That's not even a little bit funny, Jasper Talbot Whitlock."

"I never joke about fine blended scotch, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. Might I offer you something in a nice Dewars?"

"Fine. But keep 'em coming."

"Look, Edward," Emmett grinned, holding up an empty between each of his fingers. "They have Courvoisier this time!"

"I can see that." That Emmett. Both he and Jasper were in their tuxes, crouched down on their haunches as they pawed through the booze selection. Emmett seemed to be lining up the bottles alphabetically, and Jasper was trying to domino-tip them all over.

I hung the Armani on the door jamb, snapping my fingers and getting two more scotches tossed in my direction. I caught them nimbly and stuck them in the inner pocket of my tux jacket. I kept snapping and Jasper kept tossing me tiny bottles, so I soon had my pockets filled.

"Dude, wait. " I reached into the back of my jeans and pulled out a rubber-banded wad of cash. "Put that on Blaine's guy," I said, tossing the roll over to Jasper. He caught it between his index and middle fingers, not even looking up as he kept carefully lining the bottles on the top of the cart.

"Time to go get the arm candy," Jasper said about twenty minutes later, struggling to stand as he maneuvered over zillions of empty bottles. He produced his fedora out of thin air and flipped it so that it rolled up his arm. I leaned back on the wall, and I could hear the clinking in my pockets as I shifted still, pausing to allow Jasper to pin a red carnation to my lapel. I got Emmett's, and Biggie got J. We were finally ready to go. Lighting smokes and taking up the entire hallway, the three of us headed down the hall and back to my room.

"Carnation?" Bella asked, her eyebrow zipping up as she checked me out. And fuck, man. Look at that.

"Jasper, remind me to never question you taking this one shopping, ever again," I murmured, clapping the bitch on the shoulder and spinning Bella around full circle.

"Roses are a little too gangster for me and Jasper," I said to Bella, still in full-on appreciation mode. She looked like fucking Keira in _Atonement_, only much better and infinitely hotter. And I think the dress was greener, but whatever. That much back was going to drive me to drink. More.

I had no use for the undercards, but we wanted to make Blaine's fight, so with a lot of hustle and bustle, the lot of us were ushered out of our rooms and onto the elevators. I stuffed my Camels into Bella's bag and wrapped her under my arm; she had her hair tied in some side ponytail thing, so I smoothed the strands off her back and pressed my lips into her skin, leaving my mouth a bit parted and breathing as I buzzed my lips down her shoulder blade. She shivered and squirmed but didn't move or talk. I could smell the clean scent of her skin and the salt of her nerves. She was nervous. Cute. I think these people still wigged her out.

"Hey, relax," I said into her neck, rubbing my nose under her ear. I felt her jaw clench as she smiled, and I knew without looking that it was that tight-lipped smile she usually reserved for my father's commentary.

"So, Edward," Rosalie said from across the elevator. "Care to make a bet this evening?"

I was amazed oxygen masks didn't fall from the ceiling, what with nineteen people sucking in a huge breath at the same time.

"Thanks, Rosie. I'm done betting with you. Let's just say whoever loses tonight is who I bet on. That makes us square. We good?"

Dude. I haven't seen her turn that red since she took second place to a girl with a unibrow at a big speech contest back in the eighth grade. Emmett patted her arm and leaned down, whispering something into her ear. Didn't seem to work, though.

I noticed her eyes narrow as she rested them on Bella, who was self-consciously tugging at the plunged neckline of her amazing dress. I probably could've nudged her or something to let her know that she should watch her back, but I knew she was good.

Pre-bout cocktails were had in the limo, and then again once we got to the MGM Grand. We were a big mess of dressed-up kids, stumbling and laughing our way to ringside. Some dads and their lady friends were there; no Forks matron would be caught dead ringside in Vegas. It's seedy. You get your MRS degree and hand over the right to cocktails in a sweaty ante room at the Garden. That shit was reserved for the young and stupid.

Rosalie elbowed her way over until she was seated next to me. Fantastic.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Nope." Didn't wanna hear it.

"Edward."

"Rosalie."

"You're being ridiculous." She tried cooing and rubbing my chest, but Bella whipped her neck around, hitting Jasper in the face with her side-hair. "No means no, Hale."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "This is between me and-"

"My boyfriend. I'm done with fighting with you, Rose. But make no mistake. I am not above cutting a bitch to get my point across."

Fuck. I stared straight ahead, knowing that if I met the eyes of Jasper or Emmett or Yorkie or any of the others that I would just die, so I followed the old "If you can't say anything nice" adage and remained silent. Bella turned her head forward again and grasped my hand, her palms sweaty and cold. And just like that, there was a subtle shift in the structure of the Forks Elite. Nothing noticeable, and you can bet your ass it would go unmentioned. But with that short exchange with thousands of spectators hollering and welterweights punching and diamonds glittering and two of the strongest females I have ever had the honor to meet sitting on either side of me, Bella's place in the hierarchy of our social group was cemented. The Don't Fuck with Me and My Man chick. She would always be revered, and not because she followed in her mother's tracks. Mission accomplished. You are not your mother, Isabella.

"Hey Mikey," Jasper said, interrupting my musing.

"Yes, Trent?" Emmett leaned forward and Jasper tossed a box of Magnums at him, the corner hitting him in the temple.

"The fuck?" Emmett said, rubbing at his head.

"I have a latex allergy," Jasper shrugged. "I didn't realize you were so big, Michael."

"Of course," scoffed Emmett. He stuck the condoms in his jacket pocket and pulled out a mini of 1800. "You've seen me in the shower."

"I suppose," Jasper drawled, putting his ankle on his knee and an arm each around Bella and Alice. The fucker was wearing Christmas socks with reindeer heads on them.

"Wait. How the hell did you get these? They were in-"

"I train to be a bookie. I train to pickpocket. I also dabble in plumbing. You never know when the money's going to dry out, my friend. It's good to have backup plans. Sorry, gents, but I've been practicing on you for a while. Which reminds me." His hand disappeared up his sleeve and he produced a folded-up twenty. "Thereya go, peach." He handed it to Bella between his fingers. She grabbed at it, grinning, and stuffed it down the front of her dress.

"You better've gotten that before she got ready tonight."

"Negative."

"Jasper-"

"Oh, that reminds me, bitch." He reached into his vest pocket and tossed out a dull gold chain at me.

"I am, as Emmett back in Forks would say, going to commit a one-eight-seven." Dick.

"That is a thing of beauty, Edward. How come I've never seen that shit before?"

"It was my Grandfather Cullen's, asswipe."

"Huh. Guess I can't keep that then, huh?"

"Which is why I've never shown it to you. Go off to your Goodwill or wherever it is you got Bella's dress from and gitcher own fucking pocket watch. And if you ever stick your sticky little fingers in my woman's pocket again, I'll kill you."

"Fair enough. Technically, though-"

"Jasper." It was said through clenched teeth. I trusted him, but dammit. I was new at this shit.

"Never again." He was grinning and he fucking winked at me as he crossed his heart.

"Hey," Bella said, pressing her cold fingertips on the back of my hand. "I want popcorn."

"What?" I sputtered, choking on the Cutty Sark I had just downed. "You'll get the sweat of a two-hundred pound black dude on your snacks."

I looked down at her and she was gazing at me, eyes all wide and lower lip all pouty.

"Stop that," I whispered, my eyes stuck on that lip.

"Stop what?"

"Pouting. I can't say no to you."

"So don't."

"Bella."

"Please?" She was looking at me so earnestly that I started to wonder if they sold popcorn in this joint, but then she got a tiny twinkle right in her dilating pupils and I groaned, leaning back, the resounding smack of my palms hitting my thighs reverberating over the buzz of voices in the arena.

"Edward, remember. R-rated movie. Be the fucking bear, E. Claws." Emmett actually made me want to watch _Swingers_, so of course I was annoyed.

"Oh, shut up. I like you better when you tell me to check myself before I wreck myself."

"Holla. No, wait. _Swingers_ is money, brah."

"See, now you're mixing genres and it's just sad."

"Edward." Bella's voice drowned everything else out. She sounded urgent and was tugging on my bow tie.

"Let's get the hell outta here."

"Kay."

I stood up and held out my hand to help her up; she tugged at her dress and was fidgeting, so I just picked her up and slung her over my shoulder.

"And just where do you two think you're going?" Alice had her hands on her hips and looked put out.

"Private time with my girlfriend," I said, smirking and palming her ass.

"Don't you wanna-" Jasper's eyebrows were knitted, but he was smirking at me.

"Nope. You can give me my winnings in the morning."

"And just how do you know you're going to win, may I ask?" Alice was really irritated. Normally I'd expect that from Rose, but she was wisely remaining silent, for once.

"Edward always wins, Alice. You know this." He patted her hand comfortingly and then picked her up lightly, depositing her in his lap.

"We're taking your seats, bitch."

"Go right on ahead." And with that, I didn't look back as I took us up the long stairs, sidestepping the riffraff and people not important enough to have the splash-zone seats.

Bella was giggling and slapping my back with her Art Deco bag; I set her down once we made it outside and hailed a cab.

"No interruptions this time," she breathed into my ear, curving her body around me as we groped in the backseat. The driver kept eyeing us and I let him because I was too focused on not exposing anymore of her skin to the world. Longest cab ride, ever.

I was getting a buzz in my legs. Good thing I wasn't too terribly drunk.

The elevator ride was torture as there was an old couple there. Shit, even the elderly are out to keep me from getting laid.

When we got back to the room, I immediately hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. I pulled my cell from my pocket and stuck my hand out at her as she kicked off her ridiculous heels.

"Bag, please." She wordlessly passed it to me, questioning but trusting. I clicked it open and grabbed her phone, walking over to the balcony. I watched the phones as they sailed out the few stories into some bushes just below.

"The hell-"

"I'll get you a new one. That phone wasn't even 3G, Bella." I yanked the phone cord out of the wall.

"All mine." Locking my eyes on the deep V of her dress, I started to loosen my tie.

"Prepare yourself, Swan. I've been waiting for this for a week now."

"Oh, really? What's that again?" Her lips curved up into her Bella smile, the one I knew was for me. Knowing and taunting and teasing- atta girl.

I made it back to her in two strides and leaned down, coming just short of her face as I whispered, "You and me and a bed. Nothing else matters."

"Nothing."

**Go watch **_**Swingers**_**.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Ahhhh, the tale of Bella and Edward. 'Twas fun, wasn't it?**

**Hey… starting Friday, we're participating in an auction for charity. If yer the winner…. The great jandco and the wtvoc will write you a one-shot.**

**Anything you want.**

**You and Rob? Done and done. (especially if you ARE Rob, in which case writing Rob-on-Rob action…. Well, shit. We might just do that for funsies) Scotch outtake? Done. Whatever you want. The winner gets to say what's what. It just has to be somehow **_**Twilight**_**-y, yo. Chiggity check out the link on our profiles…**

**Now- on with the end.**

**Bella**

Alone.

At flipping last.

Edward cocked his head and pulled again at the knot in his tie. I watched him unbutton his cuffs and his smile turned devious and fierce.

I took a barefooted step back and he rolled up his cuffs- first the right, then the left- keeping his eyes on me.

"Bella," he said, a note of warning in his voice—but fuck it, I was happy, he wasn't going anywhere—I wanted to play.

We hadn't gotten a chance to just…play.

And while he might not have wanted to right then, I did.

Therefore we would.

"Edward. You know, I'm really tired," I grinned and mocked a yawn.

"Bella, I'm really tired too. Of not having sex," he said, taking a step closer and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.

I shrugged and walked around to the opposite side of the bed and turned the covers down.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I teased, brushing the dress strap off of my left shoulder.

"Yeah, well. I lost a bet," he shrugged.

My mouth fell open, feigning shock and hurt, but I couldn't help the smile- I was too happy to keep anything at bay for too long.

He curled one finger at me, gesturing me to come to him.

I hopped up on the bed and crawled on all fours to the foot where he was standing.

He was staring down the front of my dress and I watched his dick grow under his dark pants.

I put my fingertips in the waist of his pants and pulled myself up so my lips were practically touching his, and quickly his tongue flicked out and tasted my lip.

"Edward," I whispered, pulling his hips to mine.

"Hmm?"

"I really want you…" I whispered before I kissed his lips softly. "But first…you'll have to catch me."

I leapt off the bed, planning to sprint to the bathroom, but his arm snapped back and he grabbed me by the back of the vintage dress.

There was that awful ripping noise that you hear right before some asshole turns red because his ass is now exposed.

"Alice is going to kill you," I said smugly, looking at him over my bare shoulder.

Edward turned and took me by the hips, spinning me toward him.

"Oh? Since when did you join the Forks Elite and adopt their code of clothes ethics?"

"Since Jasper taught me the importance of decent vintage," I said, raising an eyebrow, annoying him into distraction so I could keep making him work for it.

I laughed and went to turn but he pulled me back with a sharp jerk of silk.

"Well," he said, slightly bending and grabbing a fistful of dress near my ankle, "if I want to rip a vintage Galliano—"

Rrrrip up to my knee.

"Or a Valentino…"

Rrrrip to my now bare hip.

I looked down at him, trying not to look as amused as I was by raising one eyebrow.

"Or God forbid, a Von Furstenberg wrap dress…"

Rrii—iiip.

And then my right tit was hanging out.

"I will," he said, then with two hands he lifted the remaining strap delicately from my shoulder and promptly destroyed it.

The silk fell in a fluid billow to the floor and I stood there completely naked with now _two_ raised eyebrows.

"Because I'm not Jasper and I don't give a fuck about that dress or how rare it is or how much it cost—the only thing I care about is what's in it. Or what was in it," he said, looking down at the sad heap of a dress and nudging it with his toe.

"Edward—"

"Why the hell aren't you wearing undergarments? We were around people for crying out loud," he said, now suddenly concerned with clothing after all.

"Undergarments? What are you, Gramma Swan?"

"We'll go to La Perla before we go back to Forks," Edward said decisively.

I rolled my eyes.

Some things are never meant to be changed.

And I love him anyway.

Suddenly, he was staring down at me, all naked and cold.

"What?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

He rolled his eyes and pulled on my arms.

"I want to see you. I don't get to see you naked enough."

"I guess not," I said, slowly letting my arms fall to my side, because I was his.

I wanted him to see.

He bowed his head and slowly reached out his hand. One of his fingers brushed just below my belly button and I looked down, so we both stared at his touch on my skin.

I took a shaky breath and his eyebrows furrowed in a kind of feeling concentration and he sucked in his bottom lip, catching it with his teeth.

Slowly his finger drew a soft line up, straight over my stomach…

We watched it travel between my breasts and then I felt him sweep over my throat until his finger was under my chin.

He tipped my face up and a slow, lazy but happy smile unfurled on his face.

And then he did the very thing I wanted him to, but the last thing I expected.

He put my arms around his neck and I felt his strong hands on my back and he hugged me.

Tight and close and safe and warm and loved—he held on tight, as tight as I was holding him to me.

I pressed my forehead into the top of his shoulder and felt his chin on the side of my naked neck and we held on, listening to everything we didn't say yet, but someday would.

There was no swaying, no humming, no gratuitous touches or grabs…just hugging—just relieved and elated to finally, finally be here with no obstacle or lie or bet between us.

Sometime later, I caved before him when I started to kiss his neck, then made my way to his jaw, his ear until he turned his face and met my lips.

We fell onto the bed, in a big tangle of limbs and hair and us.

A tie flew over my head, a shirt landed near my arm, pants shuffled off to the carpet and I heard the short rip of a condom wrapper.

My stomach swirled with anticipation and ready while my legs shifted and my feet dug into the covers.

I lay with my arms above my head, my hair a spread-out mess around me while he slowly lowered himself, smiling so faintly I could barely be sure he was there at all.

He kissed my lips and rocked back and forth slowly while I rubbed his sides with my thighs.

I brushed the hair from his eyes and let my hands wander to the back of his neck, while he worked in slowly.

I blindly traced the muscles I could reach in his back while his lips pressed into the center of my chest, and then we were completely connected in every sense we could be.

There was licking and sucking and pulling and giggling—the entire gamut.

And when I came, hard and shivering and smiling-- he came at the same time, once again proving that when we were stripped down and just being Edward and Bella, when it was just the fundamentals of us—we were perfect together.

_1:13 a.m._

"Harder…"

"I can't—you have to bend them more."

"I can't."

"We're signing you up for yoga."

"Harder."

"Like that?"

"Oh god…"

_2:47 a.m._

"I've never done this."

"Trust me."

"I do—what are you doing?"

"I wanna see."

"Oh…ah oh. Oh! Keep going…"

_4:42 a.m._

"I…my elbows are gonna give…"

"Should…I…stop?"

"No. Hell. No."

_6:07 a.m._

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

**Edward**

I hurt. Not from the love or bet or whatever; from the lovin'. And I was fucking _tired_.

So when I was awakened somewhere around 6:47 in the a.m. by a sharp elbow to my shoulder blade, my first instinct was to attack; but then somehow, through the sex-addled, semi-conscious post-fuck state, I managed to realize that it was most likely Bella. Slowly, I opened the one eye that wasn't stuffed into a pillow and there she was, hair looking like she stuck her finger in an electrical socket, somewhere lost inside my tux shirt that was buttoned in two places. She had black makeup smooshed under her eyes and somehow in the sort of suffused light coming from the crack in the curtains, I could see the tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. Or maybe I was just dreaming, but whatever. She was there, and she looked good.

I flipped over and got a shiver because I was still naked, so I reached out and pulled her over me like a blanket. Her bird's nest hair covered my face and I inhaled deeply; sweat and sex and Dove. I pulled it into a sloppy ponytail and lifted the hair up, kissing her neck.

"Mornin'," she mumbled into my chest. The tickle of her breath made me warm and I hugged her closer to me.

"You smell like you were fucked good and proper," I rasped into her hair. She squirmed on top of me and I saw that somehow in the mangle of limbs and love and sex and straight-up fucking that she had managed to put some underwear on. So I ran my hands down the rumpled white shirt and cupped her curvy ass, hooking my thumbs under the hem and snapping the fabric up.

"Oof, Cullen. Not the best way into my pants, you know." She scrambled up so that our faces were level, and in the light of the curtain-sliver filtering around us, I could see dust particles floating around her mess of hair and lighting on her nose as she pressed a kiss onto my forehead… and then my right temple… the left. She tilted my head to the right and kissed right next to my ear, then tilted to the left and repeated. Little cute, sweet kisses.

"Who says I want in your pants again, woman? You tire a man out." That made her stop abruptly. She clasped my head in her hands and searched my face, her eyes suddenly fire and suspicion and ire.

But that was all for half a second; her entire face relaxed and her hands unclasped and turned into wispy fingertips tugging at my overgrown sideburns. She wiggled and squirmed and like that, I was standing at attention. Yet again.

"Your massive erection says otherwise," she grinned into my mouth, and despite the slight ache in my back like I had been lifting (okay, I had) and the insane fiery burn in my thigh muscles like when we had that all-day scrimmage to prep for the game against the fucking Jefferson Democrats- I woke up, instantly.

"Hmm. Massive. Flattery gets you everywhere," I whispered into her neck. Her arms snaked up my sides and across my shoulders until she was pinning me, nipping and biting at my mouth but never actually kissing.

"Come on. Quit teasing. I wanna make out." I pulled her head down and kissed her square and firm on the mouth twice. She smiled and finally kissed me back.

"Kay." I rolled us over, waiting to see what tempo she'd set for this session. So far, all night had been about testing- do this, taste that, touch there, tug here, fingertip there, slower harder pulse and push. Trying to find a stride, a rhythm. I was up for testing all night, but as I settled over her and smoothed her bangs away, we locked and looked and then it was just fucking _there_.

"Edward," she said, her lips not moving, my name coming out with her exhale. And that's all it took, really. I'd end this night with love. Ridiculous, really. Ridiculously wonderful that I only needed this, this Her. This here and this now.

My hands roamed. Hair and mouth, a brief brush of her breath on my skin. She pursed lips and kissed my roughened fingertips, pressing her face into my palm as the other hand cupped her neck. Shivering and eye closed, she looked spent and warm and ready for more. Leaning to kiss above the V of the buttoned shirt, I nudged the fabric aside, nipping at her tit, the other side, soft and sweet and slight. Sweet pink flesh, flushed under my tongue, teasing to hard as I grew hard and it got harder to not just take and fuck and take and take. No, no. Time to give. She had given so much, so much. It would never be equal; _we_ would never be equal, and it didn't even matter.

I gasped in a breath, trying to maintain calm. Setting aside the absolute wonder that I was still sporting wood after a marathon night, in-my-prime male be damned, I got up on my elbows and gazed at her, resting my chin on her sternum.

"See something you like?" She looked indulgent and worn the hell out. Never sexier. Something about this Bella- this satiated Bella who still looked like she had room for more- made me grin.

"What?" she laughed, crooking her fingers and grabbing at my hair, pushing my head down so that I was scratching her belly with my stubble. She hissed at the prickly pain, a smirky grin hitting her face at the perfect angle and I turned so that my entire cheek was rubbing down down down. When I got to the hem of her Hanes, I snaked out my tongue and hooked it under the hem, grabbing with my teeth and pulling down. I felt the spasms of her non-existent abs as she held in laughter, my nose tickling and brushing against her hip as I pulled down, going down and anticipating going down and I kept going, her legs spreading slightly wider as my chin scruffed a path down her soft thighs. It pretty much took all of my powers of concentration to not unclench my teeth when I passed over her aroused pussy (need new term, it just seems _dirty_) because the smell just engulfed my face, making my eyes lose focus and I clenched my teeth and every muscle in my body pretty damned hard until I had the sensible underwear off and tossed somewhere behind me. I looked down, rubbing my neck in anticipation because she was giving me that indulgent look again, like she was going to do what I wanted because she was allowing it.

"Nothing. You just look like you're dying for it," I said, matter-of-fact and cocky because well, I was cocky about this. It was weird, being this certain about anything, especially when it was a girl. But hey- everyone's gotta grow up sometime, and while I didn't plan on doing any of that anytime soon, I knew that I had at least done a little maturing about women and shit. Or, more accurately, _woman_.

She rolled her eyes and shifted her legs. "You're such an ar-" I shut her up by softly, slowly kissing the top of her thigh, and I resisted the urge to look at her as I scratched the hell out of her leg with my face, moving up and hearing the hiss as she breathed in, sharp and quick.

She really must have been dying for it, because her hands were scratching at my scalp before I even got to the motherland, the muscles in her thighs straining under my cheek and chin as I hovered over her, savoring and buzzing in the seconds before I would grab and lick and kiss and love.

"Edward, please-"

"Bella," I breathed into her skin and her writhing legs. "Hold still so that I can love you good and proper."

She laughed and pulled at my hair, bringing me up until my lips were just above her. I wet my bottom lip with my tongue, this time looking up at her briefly before tasting her pussy, fast and quick. She jerked up, trying to catch my tongue again before I drew it away; her legs opened more, her knees shooting up and toes pinching my skin as she tried to brace herself against me, against the bed, against what she knew was coming.

I got up on my elbows and suddenly I was the one who needed bracing because she was lifting herself up, right into my face and that thing, that Bella thing she does where she makes this bit of a breathy squeaking noise just really got to me and before I realized it, I was there, tasting and breathing her in and she was breathing faster and moving and I had to hold on to her so she wouldn't fall and I wouldn't slip but I knew I would never let go until she was done.

"Edward, please," she insisted, not quite sobbing and not really begging, but asking and insisting and how could I say no? I wanted her to come and I wanted to come so I scrambled up kissed her stomach and nipped at a nipple and buried my face in her neck, taking in the warm smell of her neck and hair and love and then she was grabbing my hip and reaching down between us-

-and I almost fucking lost it when her palm brushed up against my dick, so I clenched my jaw and sucked a breath in through my nose, forcing some calm until the deep buzz abated somewhat, but she knew what she had inadvertently done because she always fucking did that, so she moved her grasp down more , the flesh in her hand growing harder with each inch she clasped until I moved my hips down an inch or two and then it was her turn for jaw clenching as I got my dick wet, sliding down and teasing, killing both of us with the tension. Sure, I liked to just thrust in and fuck as much as the next guy, but I'll be damned if this love-infused foreplay shit wasn't even _better_ than that.

And it always would be. With her.

"Edward," she tried again, her voice the tightly-controlled whisper of a scream, "I love it when you do that. But so help me, if you don't-"

Yeah. Agreed.

I plunged in.

And God help me, but it was just the fucking best thing that words can't… they just can't.

I'm not even going to fucking describe it. The hot and the enveloping encompassing. Her soft sighs and hot little breath darting in my ear and my mouth as I tried- tried to control, tried to not just take her and fuck because she was more than that, she always would be. I could be a dick and deny but I won't because her heart and legs opened up and I didn't want to take advantage so I let her do the taking and she pushed up, pushed off and pushed forth onto me, mashing and connecting. My own slightly controlled pacing of hips and balance went off-kilter with her frantic gasps and fierce little beating heart and I just gave in and gave gave gave. Continued to give until she got hers good.

"Never going to be better," she said weakly, hooking her heels around my calves and thrusting up a bit, tickling the fuck out of my numbed and pulsing body, feeling wonderful and seriously uncomfortable because I just didn't think I could do it anymore.

"No," I agreed, trying desperately not to crush her underneath me. I knew she didn't mind; in fact, I think that she loved my weight covering her after we fucked because she always sighed when I rolled right off her, but who knows? All I knew is that I would figure her out one day.

"I love this," she whispered into my chest, her nose warmer than my skin. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"Of course. I'm really good," I said, smiling as she half-heartedly punched my shoulder. I finally pulled out and rolled over and there it was, there it fucking was- that adorable and frustrating sigh that eventually I would get down to the bottom of.

"You're not terrible," she said, moving slightly to kiss my shoulder. I stuck my arm under her neck and we lay there, side by side, breathing and staring at nothing and just being.

"Yes I am. But not with you."

"Shut up. You're better than you think you are."

"Don't tell anyone."

"Fuck anyone. I'm here for you."

"And with me."

"You're stuck."

I sighed. "Poor little rich boy."

"Indeed."

**The end.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Epilogue**

**Bella**

We've made it.

We graduated three days ago and Edward and I are still…more than strong.

I smil to myself as I pour a shot of whiskey at Emmett's wet bar and listen to the Forks Elite banter at the green felt poker table.

I look over, and there he is, my baby, leaning back sloppily in his chair, one arm draped on the back of my empty seat.

He smacks Emmett's hand away when he tries to peek at my abandoned, overturned cards and when he turns to see what's taking me so long I give him a loud air kiss, then he rolls his eyes and tells me to move my ass.

So, I do.

I come back with my drink in hand and take my rightful seat sandwiched between Edward and the confusing combination of Alice on top of Jasper.

I plunk my drink on the table and slap at Edward's hand when he reaches for it.

"There are no partners at the poker table, bitch," I smirk.

"You're betting with my money. That has to be some kind of partnership."

"No," I say, sliding my drink directly in front of me.

"Hey, Stanley, how 'bout a Scotch—"

"Get your own damn drink, Edward," I sigh, like he knows I will.

"Let's do this," Alice says, bouncing on Jasper's knee.

He looks like he's about to die—but happily. He puts an arm around her waist to keep her still and she leans back and holds their shared hand of cards up—he whispers something in her ear and she stays expressionless while he reaches behind his ear for a rolled cigarette and winks at me.

I smile back and lean over to yank lightly on his wallet chain—because me and Jasper will always have our days of La Bella and gin.

"Let's make money the fly way," Emmett says, his eyes mischievous and beside him, sour-faced Rosalie rolls her own eyes and quickly brushes at the very faint scar on her face.

It's a new nervous habit.

"No stripping. I don't wanna see your shriveled sac," Edward said, his hand drumming lightly on the inside of my thigh in time to Dre.

"Please, Dogg. I'd keep my shit on. I'm just tryin' to see some Forks titties before I'm outta here."

"Nah," Edward cut in. "Let's play this last round with class."

"Last round," Alice said under her breath.

"Let's go out like gentlemen," Jasper agreed.

And for who knew how long, this would be the last round…

Jasper had plans to…go be Jasper around the world.

Alice would be off to Italy to see her mother, then on to UCLA.

Rosalie was set for Stanford, but first she was going to vacation in Turkey, to, she claimed, "relieve the stress of the year".

Emmett was going to tour Compton before "buying A's at Princeton, yo."

Edward and I would stay in Forks, then move on together; me to Berkeley, Edward to Stanford.

A half hour into the game I'm bored and doubled Edwards money already, so I get up to wander one last time around Emmett's house. I pass the "recreation room" and half-cringe, half-smile when I remember the first time I was in there, wrapped around Emmett and trying to escape Mike Newton.

I run my hand along the smooth wood of the banister along the stairs and I remember the night of my birthday party, the night Edward almost broke my heart.

I remember La Bella and slurpees and cafeteria grand gestures—and I remember the bet.

I shudder when I think of trying to have to stay away from Edward—because… he's Edward. He's mine and I'm his and looking back now…it's almost funny that we ever tried to deny that.

And then I'm in the middle of a dim hallway with a Blaine-purchased counterfeit Monet on my left and Rosalie Hale standing in front of me.

"Move, or I'll push ya down the steps," I say, and a part of me thinks I might actually do it.

"Tsk. Isabella. You haven't even said thank you yet."

"I believe I did. You still have the scar," I say and point my finger an inch from her face.

She flinched back and rolled her eyes.

"You know, Isabella, I may have had the cruelest of intentions, but you got the best possible outcome. The two of you make me want to vomit. At any rate, if it weren't for me, who knows?"

I give an exasperated laugh in her face and brush past her, leaving her alone in the dim hallway.

She'd never get it—Rosalie would always be Rosalie.

When I get back downstairs, Emmett is threatening to upturn the table, Jasper is blowing lazy smoke rings to the ceiling and Edward is smiling up at me while collecting money from around the table.

I glance at Jasper, my best friend and my confidante and my could-have-been/almost-was…but I can't feel any regret about that, and I know he can't either. Jasper would have his own story of boredom and bets and love to tell someday, and though I know I'll always be a part of it, I won't be the happily ever after—but he'll get his.

He'll make damn sure of that.

I walk back to them and my gaze shifts back to Edward, like it always will, and I smile back at him, sincere and perfectly at peace and happy with my now and my future because despite Rosalies and Jaspers and scotch and Mommies and silicone and gin and money—and maybe with help along the way from Waits and Jaspers and gin and Amelias and Miss Mimis and scotch and Target, we would always just…be.

To hell with the rest.

_a few months later_

**Alice**

"Jasper," I said, palming my phone and flipping it to speaker. I set it down on my vanity and leaned in, grinning to inspect my teeth.

"Hiya, doll," he said, his voice breathy and sleepy and just so cute. Oh, Jasper. I will miss you so.

"So I'm leaving tomorrow." He knew that. I felt like I was stalling. Why did this make me so nervous?

"Yes," he drawled, his tongue drawing out the ess. I could hear rustling; he was probably still freaking in bed.

"Jasper, it's like ten a.m. Get up! It's a wonderful day! Fall is approaching! You know what that means," I said, stretching up on the balls of my feet and grabbing for whatever lip gloss was there. They all coordinated well with my complexion. I'd be fine. MAC Hello Kitty Dazzleglass. Old, but it'd do. I O'ed my mouth and started applying.

"Newly sharpened pencils," he said, and I could hear a stretch in his voice. I pursed my lips and felt satisfied by the effect. Good thing I got sleep; tonight was going to be loooooong.

"So the reason I'm calling is because I need your help."

"You always need my help, little girl," he said, sounding all "I'm Jasper, watch me be amused by Alice's silly antics yet again". I pretended to harrumph, but it was pretty tough to stay mad at the boy. He was just so relaxed and tall and well- all summer long, he'd been a lot of fun to hang out with.

And he'd really, seriously, for freaking _reals_ helped me figure out who I was. I mean, for the most part.

"Jasper, I'm just going to ask because I'm not in the mood for your odd insults right now. Just… I need help moving my stuff to LA."

There was a pause and I had to go, "Jasper?" before he responded.

"Sure, peach. I can do that for ya."

"Don't call me peach. I'm not Bella."

"Sure, Petite." Okay, I had to laugh at that one. Mostly because he did an uncanny Taylor Kitsch as Gambit imitation, and that is _always_ hot.

"Wait, really? 'Cuz like, I have my car and my furniture and Uncle Blaine says I can't possibly go to LA without all of my bathing suits and since Rosalie and I went to Cancun for spring break well, that's just a lot of swimwear and he may have been kidding anyway because I'm pretty sure-"

"Petite, you're rambling. I'll move you down to LA. Relax."

My hero.

"I'm going to miss you, you know. Are you sure you won't reconsider-"

"Nope. Thanks, though." Stubborn as always.

"Fine. Will I see you tonight?"

"You bet your pilates-toned ass, Alice. Like I'd miss the great Forks College-Bound Good Bye Bash of 2009."

"Okay, and about-"

"Have no fear, Alice," he said, and it sounded like he was finally getting his ass out of bed. Ugh. There was a spot of mascara in the corner of my eye; I leaned in to remove it, and he finished with, "I will take care of everything. Bright and early tomorrow. Expect some juniors on your doorstep."

"Bright and early? But the party tonight-"

"Bright and early. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. Jasper's gonna take care of you."

**Jasper**

"Well…send your laundry home."

"Ma…I've been doing my own laundry since I was twelve when you taught me how."

"Well. Okay, Jasper. Look, I know I raised an independent, well-rounded young man but…I'll miss you, and I'll be worried."

"I'll miss you, too. But mom, I got this," I grinned and shrugged.

"I know," she sighed and walked out of my room, still wringing her damn hands like she had been since I graduated.

Colleen wants me to go to college. Unfortunately for Colleen, she'd raised an independent, free-thinker.

Hell, I'd go the college route some day, probably, but not now—not when I'm eighteen and half green and ready to bust the hell out of here to see the rest.

I'm going to New Orleans to feel jazz—not just study about it.

I'm going to New York so I can walk with a rich man on my left side and a poor man on my right.

I'm going to fucking Wisconsin so I can learn how to make cheese.

I'm going to Idaho to see about some potatoes.

I'm going to Tennessee so I can send some authentic Gentlemen's Jack back to Edward and Emmett, but mostly I'm going for Graceland.

I'm going everywhere—I'm going to feel it all, so I can live the shit out of my youth until I'm a tired old man who can whittle wood or some shit on a bench—and maybe entertain the idea of going to college.

But first…first I have to get Alice to L.A.—because someday, when I'm whittling my wood or whatnot, I plan to have Alice annoying the hell out of me on that bench.

But she's got a lot of discovering to do, too.

La Bella, my platonic lady, is happy, and my best boy Edward is seeing to it that she always will be…I got no business left here in Forks.

I took a look around my teenage boy's room and patted the torn up, folded map and tucked it in my back pocket, though I doubted I'd ever look at it.

Me and the GTO would go wherever the life is.

**You guys didn't really think we'd leave without telling you about Jasper and Alice, didja?**

**for those of you who don't do well with reading between the lines.... brace yerselves for more.**


End file.
